


Drunk is my middle name

by raise_a_glass_to_fanfic



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: And his muscles love muscle milk, Coffee shop au but at a laundromat lol, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Herc loves his muscles, Laf is too french, Lams - Freeform, Laurens is shitfaced, M/M, Modern AU, Regret, Slow Burn, alex is a terrible liar, chloé the corgi - Freeform, collab fic, is he drunk or gay?????, kill me now, lams is my religion, the Schuyler sisters???, trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2018-11-14 05:39:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11201592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raise_a_glass_to_fanfic/pseuds/raise_a_glass_to_fanfic
Summary: Coffee shop au except it's a laundromat called Washington's. John is drunk. Laf is too French. Herc loves his muscle milk. And Alex is a terrible liar (and maybe gay??)Alternate: John Laurens drunk kisses Alexander Hamilton. John forgets everything. Alex wishes he would.Two writers switching off chapters. Updates every other Tuesday.Tumblr: https://throw-us-all-away.tumblr.com/post/162112304379/taking-fanfic-promps-requests





	1. Drunk or gay? Shitfaced at a bar

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for this trash.
> 
> -Lizzie and Serenity

Heat rushed over Alex as he stepped through the door. The autumn’s cold breezes were overtaken by the heater in the bar. Alex was being led by Aaron Burr, a prodigy at his college. Alex had been looking for some knowledge on an accelerated course, but Burr had led him to a bar instead. Great.

The stench of alcohol followed everyone. A lot of people Alex recognized from college. As Alex walked further into the bar Aaron turned back at him.

“Talk less.”

“What?” Alex thought he had to be joking.

“Smile more.” Okay, he wasn't.

“Make the professors think that you agree with them. They love to hear that they are right.”

“Are you telling me that I can't say what I believe in?”

“If you want to jump ahead.” Alex felt sick.

Just as Alex was about to open his mouth and say something he was going to regret, he was stopped.

“What are you doing here, Burr?”

Alex looked over and immediately jumped from the height of the man in front of him. He had to be almost a full head taller than him. He had dark brown curls for hair, and it was all pulled back into a ponytail. He had a small beard, and his eyes were dark brown. He was frowning.

Aaron tried to walk away, but the man grabbed his wrist.

“I said, what the hell are you doing here?” There was a bitter tone to his voice, and his French accent only made him sound scarier. Aaron sighed.

“I'm just showing Alex around.”

For the first time the Frenchman noticed Alex. His frown turned into a smile.

“Oh! I'm sorry I didn't notice you! My name’s Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, but everyone calls me Lafayette.” Hamilton could smell the booze on him, but he liked this more upbeat Lafayette. When he wasn't angry, his accent made him seem less intimidating. Lafayette turned to Burr once more.

“Why are you still here?”

Burr sighed and went to the bar. Alex turned to Lafayette.

“What's the deal with him?”

“Oh nothing,” Lafayette smirked, “he just tells EVERYONE how they are going to die because they talk too much. He's even worse when he's drunk.” Alex laughed.

“Here,” Lafayette said, “come meet my friends.”

Alex was suddenly being dragged through the bar by his wrist. It took all his might to jump and dodge all the people. He eventually arrived at a table. At the table there was a man, beer in hand.

“Hercules! Look who I found!”

“Who the hell is this?” Hercules said, probably a little drunk. He had short, brown hair with a bandana tied over his forehead. He was around six feet tall. Although he was shorter than Lafayette, he looked bigger. Alex thought he could break him in half.

“My new friend.” Lafayette smiled, earning a glare from Hercules.

“You get a new friend every week, Lafayette.”

Yup, definitely drunk.

“This one is different Hercules. I can see the pure hatred of Aaron Burr in his eyes.”

“Well,” Hercules stood up, and eyed Hamilton up and down, “what did he do to you?”

“He told me not to argue, not to say what I believe. If no one says what they believe, how are we going to move forward?” Alex let all of his fury out.

Hercules stared at him, then opened his mouth.

“Welcome to the club. What's your name again?”

“Alex. Alexander Hamilton.”

“I'm Hercules Mulligan. I'm a tailor. Well, it's just a hobby, and I do some stuff for work, but I hope to get more serious about it later. Currently all I seem to do is knit sweaters for Lafayette’s dog.”

Alex stifled back a laugh.

“What type of dog?”

“Don't get him started…” Hercules muttered under his breath

“Chloe is a welsh corgi. I found her on the cold streets of New York-”

“Dog shelter.” Hercules interrupted. Lafayette glared at him.

“She was being harassed and barely fed-”

“She was getting walked around the block and was being fed dog food.”

“I saved her-”

“Adopted her.”

“And treat her the way she deserves.” Lafayette’s face was so red, it looked like he was going to explode. Hercules smiled.

“If homemade sweaters, meals, and a room to herself is what she deserves, why do I have the smaller bedroom?”

Lafayette lost it.

“ _Reviens ici ta putain gallet_!”

Lafayette chased Hercules through the bar as Hamilton laughed. They suddenly stopped before a man that was about Alex’s height. His hair was brown and curly. It was pulled back into an elastic that didn't seem to do anything because his hair still went everywhere. His face was covered in so many freckles that it took all of Alex’s might not to connect the dots. He held three beers, and was probably the most drunken person at the bar.

“What did he do now?” The man looked at Lafayette.

“He, uh, wrecked my story.” Lafayette hesitated, but he still had an angry tone.

“You two are fucking idiots.”

Lafayette took this as a cue to start chasing Hercules again. The man sighed and started to walk over to the table, but noticed Alex sitting there.

“Who's this?” The man stared into Hamilton’s eyes, and Alex could feel him looking into his soul.

“Alex Hamilton.”

“He doesn't like Burr.” Lafayette said while chasing Hercules around a corner.

The man’s eyes were slits as he stared Hamilton up and down. He then stuck out his hand.

“Laurens. John Laurens.”

Hamilton shook his hand.

As Hercules was darting around various alcoholics, he saw Laurens holding the three beers.

“Thanks for the beers, buddy.” Hercules said barely out of breath.

“Fuck no, these are mine.”

“ _Salaud_!” Lafayette panted out, vaulting a chair to catch up with Mulligan. When Lafayette failed, he stopped and gave up.

“ _Baisez-moi, je reçois une bière_.”

Hercules emerged from the crowd and followed him to the bar. Now Hamilton was alone with John Freckles.

“So,” John said, finishing up the first beer in his hand, “what do you do?”

“Well,” Alex said, “I'm currently going to college and I'm trying to become a lawyer.”

John snickered.

“This however is a bit of a pain trying to afford my dorm considering I'm a broke orphan, and I don't have a job.”

“You're an orphan?” John looked surprised.

“Yeah, you see my dad left when I was 10. Then two years later my mom died. I then moved into an apartment with my cousin, but shortly after he killed himself. Then a hurricane ravaged my home, and I wrote a paper on it, and I guess a lot of people liked it because they paid for the boat ride here and the pricey college of New York. Now I'm here, broke, and without a job.”

“Rough life, huh.”

Alex felt like he could open up to this John guy. He felt like he could tell him all his secrets, and John would keep them. Or at least forget them from all the alcohol he was drinking. Either way, he could tell him.

“Well, that was fucking depressing.”

Alex snickered, earning a smile from Laurens.

“What do you do?” Alex asked.

“I work at a dry cleaner/clothing store called Washington’s. Laf and Herc work there too. Charles designs the shirts, Herc makes them from scratch, and then I put the, uh, finishing touches on them. Laf is like customer service, but he often tries on the clothing.” John finished his third beer.

“Sounds fun.” And like a good way to pay rent.

“Well, you should come talk to Washington. We could use some help kicking the crap out of Charles Lee. Fucking Asshole.”

“Who is Charles Lee?”

“Just the clothing designer of Washington’s, who always saying shit behind our manager, Washington’s, back.”

Alex snickered.

“Wait, the manager named a dry cleaner/clothing store after himself?”

“Yeah. By the way don't ever try to call him Washing Machine. Herc’s cheek hurt for a week.

Alex had to laugh at that.

“Wait one second, don't move,” Laurens said, all serious for a second. Out of nowhere he had a pen in his hand. He then took a white napkin off a table and started drawing on it. Alex tried to peek at it but John would shift to hide it. Alex gave up.

After a few minutes Laurens stood up and faced Hamilton. Alex stood up as well and held out his hands as John placed the folded napkin in them. When he unfolded it, it was a picture of himself, laughing. It had every detail: his pulled back hair, his baggy eyes, his smile.

“Wow John, this is amazing!”

“You're cute when you laugh.”

Alex looked up to see Laurens staring into his soul again. Before he knew what was going on, he was pulled into Laurens’s arms as their lips met. Alex shut his eyes as his knees felt limp. He could feel heat radiating from John, and his warm breath. It only lasted a second, but it felt like forever.

It was cut short by a familiar voice.

“John, _mon ami_ , we’re leaving.”

John pulled away, his cheeks bright red. Alex was sure he was blushing too.

“Sorry Alex, gotta go!” John said, just as Lafayette and Hercules came into sight. John turned and started to follow them to the front door.

“What time is it?”

“Show time!” Lafayette and Hercules said in unison, screaming at the top of their lungs.

Alex was left there alone, speechless. It took him a full minute to move a muscle. When he could finally move again, he made his way back to his dorm, freezing. When he finally was in bed, he realized he still had the napkin in hand. He hung it up on his wall so he could look at it. The eyes, the hair, his nose, all of it was perfect.

Just like the kiss, no. His stomach was in a knot. He was having a war inside him. Who was he to melt in the arms of a person he had only just met? And not any person, a man! Alex’s mind kept circling back to John, no matter how hard he tried not to. His crazy hair, his flawless smile, his endless amount of freckles. He wanted to see him again, but he also wanted to forget the whole night. He wanted to wake up and realize it was a dream and he was home with his mother, a 12 year old boy who could do anything in the world.

The closer he got to sleep he wished more and more that this would end, that he would wake up and forget everything that happened.

He didn't.


	2. To the store, bitches!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John struggles to function through a hangover. Alex gets a job. And Herc really loves his Muscle Milk.

John woke up past noon, with a pounding head and a dry throat. The light streaming in through his room’s makeshift curtains burned into his brain and left an imprint behind his eyelids, and it was a struggle to stand up. It wasn't until he had thrown on a pair of sweatpants and a sweater, tied his hair up messily, and staggered into the apartment kitchen that he had the mental capacity to think back to the previous night.

It had been… wild. John remembered the chugging contest with Herc, the three foaming mugs of Sam Adams pressed into his hands as his victory prize (Laf had placed his bets on Herc and been disappointed), and the cute guy he’d been introduced to. He remembered being intrigued by Alexander Hamilton’s eyes. The fire in them, the drive. And then… and then what? With a burst of panic he realized there was a gap in his memory.

John wedged himself into a chair by the kitchen island, behind which Herc was devouring a turkey sandwich. He gave John one look and went to fill a tall glass of water, handing it over to him along with two advils.

“Drink,” he instructed. John was too hungover to argue. His body protested, but he managed to down the whole glass without a few minutes.

“I was in the same boat earlier,” Herc said when John had finished. “Sort of. Except you slept for twelve hours, and we got home at two in the morning. I practically had to drag you up the stairs.”

John rubbed his temples, hoping to calm his raging headache. “How many drinks did I have? Because I feel like fucking shit.”

“You mean you can't remember?” Herc asked incredulously. “God, Laurens, did you get blackout drunk?”

John was saved from having to answer by Lafayette storming into the kitchen. “ _Pour la dernière fuis_!” he yelled. “ _Ne laissez pas votre merde dans la chambre de Chloé_.”

“Speak fucking English,” Herc said irritatedly. John knew that being the only non-French speaker out of the three of them was a sore spot for him. That didn't discourage Lafayette.

“Hercules Mulligan, move your shit out of Chloé’s room right now!” Lafayette demanded.

“It was John,” Herc defended, flashing an apologetic look in John’s direction.

“Really. _Honte a vous_ , Mulligan. He's pretty much dead right now.”

John’s French was normally almost as good as Lafayette’s, but currently he was having trouble understanding.

With great effort, John raised his head to see Lafayette pick up the white and tan corgi that was trailing him and put it on the chair next to John.

“Get the fucking dog off the chair, du Motier,” Herc warned.

Lafayette narrowed his eyes. He swept a few stray curls back and rose to his full height. “I swear to God, Mulligan, if you remove Chloe from her chair, after what you put her through last night—”

“A dog can stay home alone for a few hours,” Herc interrupted.

“ _Mon Dieu_ , Mulligan, let me finish! Just because you're an unsympathetic mess doesn't mean I'm not going to give Chloé what she deserves, which is food—”

“Fillet mignon,” Herc muttered.

Lafayette gritted his teeth. “Shelter, care, water—”

“A room bigger than mine, twenty-four seven pampering, glacier water from the Sierra Nevadas in fucking California—”

“Hey!” John interrupted. His brain felt like it was rattling inside his skull as he spoke, but he pushed on. “Resident mess speaking. First, no way in hell are you going to take that title from me, Mulligan, and don't fucking try because I will destroy you. Secondly, will someone kindly fill me in on what happened last night, past, say, one o’clock, because I have no recollection.”

Laf let out a huge huff, passing a hand across his face. “ _Merde, ami_. You do stupid things when you're drunk. Remember when you convinced Hercules to help you break into the storeroom and you two drank all the—”

“The point is,” Herc said quickly, cutting Laf off. “We should have been watching you and we weren't.”

“Thanks mom.”

Herc playfully swatted John with his hand-knitted beanie. John grabbed it and put it on. It was warm, and if he pulled it down, it covered his ears and softened the noises that were boring into his brain.

“We don't know what happened, ami,” Laf admitted. “We left you with Alex Hamilton, though, and both of you were still in one piece when we came back, so there's a good chance nothing happened.”

“I don't trust that guy, though,” Herc said. “Shows up at a bar at twelve thirty with Burr, who I'm pretty sure goes to sleep at like nine most nights, and claims to dislike him.”

“Burr told him to talk less, and he seemed like the talking type. I liked him,” Laf said.

“Definitely the talking type. He gave me this long monologue on his life, and honestly, it fucking sucks. Grew up on a tiny island called Nevis, mom died when he was twelve, his boat to New York caught on fire…” John frowned. “Well, that last one wasn't included, but I can picture it.” As an artist, he had a vivid imagination.

“You're remembering,” Lafayette said optimistically. “That's good, _ami_.”

“You know what else is good?” Herc said, grinning. “The new Sunday morning Belgian waffle recipe I tried out while a very hungover somebody slept in.”

“Oh, fuck you, Mulligan,” John said, picking up the nearest object, Chloe’s sequined pink collar, and throwing it at Herc. “I thought we were friends.” John put on his best pouty face. Truth was, he was starting to feel better, and the gap in his memory suddenly didn't scare him as much.

“What, you used to getting your breakfast delivered to your room every morning, Mayor’s son?”

John flipped Herc off, and he cackled while Laf screamed something in the background about respecting Chloe’s things.

“Okay, y’all,” John said, rising from his seat and stretching. “I'm going for a walk. Who's coming?”

“I could get some more milk,” Lafayette mused. “And eggs. And that strange protein drink Hercules likes.”

John snickered. “Muscle milk.”

“Hey! It's not my fault that I love my—” Herc suddenly cut off, face flushing.

John felt his smile grow wider. It took all of his might not to fall down on the ground laughing. Instead, hangover forgotten, he crossed to Herc’s side, going on tiptoes so he could prop an arm up on the bigger man’s broad shoulder. “Say it, Mulligan,” he teased.

Herc shook his head vigorously. “I wasn't going to say anything. C’mon, I thought we were going on a walk. I need some more yarn for Chloe’s new sweater.”

“Not until you finish that sentence.”

Of course, John knew exactly what Herc had been going to say. He just wanted to hear it come out of his mouth.

Herc looked desperately to Laf for help. The Frenchman appeared to be ignoring them, but John could see a small smile on his face as he stared apathetically into the next room.

John leaned into Herc playfully. He was finally feeling somewhat normal, as the Advil and water kicked in, and a chance to tease Herc was something he never passed up.

Herc pushed John off. “I am not going to say—”

“I love my muscles, and my muscles love muscle milk,” John said for him, imitating his smooth, deep voice.

“That's not what I was going to say. I don't know what you're talking about,” Herc mumbled, badly concealing his embarrassment.

John grinned. “Sorry, Mulligan, we all know the truth. Now to the store, bitches!”

The walk was relatively short, but to John it felt a million years long as he, despite himself, mulled over the contents of last night's outing in his head. He recognized the fact that Alex Hamilton was probably the only person who could tell him what had happened after he’d blacked out. But Hamilton was a stranger. John didn't know where he lived or how to find him.

Did he want to see him again? There was a good chance John had done something stupid. It was possible he'd even gone so far as to make a move on him or weird him out—and his wasn't sure if Hamilton was into guys.

 _Why am I even thinking about this_ , he wondered. _It’s not like I actually like him or some shit like that_. He’d been drunk. Period. End of story. And no, he didn’t care if he ever saw Alex again or not.

Yet even as he thought it, something like regret prickled the back of his mind.

The three friends reached the store. It wasn’t very busy on Sundays—but the line John could see through the window was more than long enough for him. He hovered in the doorway of the store until Lafayette took pity on him and give him a free out. Herc grumbled and said something about being the Mayor’s privileged son. John ignored it; he didn’t like to think about his father, who was thankfully far away in South Carolina.

With nowhere to go until Laf and Herc were done, John found his feet setting him on the familiar path to Washington’s. It was only a few blocks down, so he went with it.

He found himself thinking about Alex Hamilton’s eyes. Big, dark eyes—eyes that shone with intelligence and pain and burning passion all at once. Eyes that he found himself staring into as he pulled up short in front of Washington’s.

John cocked his head to the side, ignoring his heartbeat, which sped up as he stared at Alex. “Hamilton?”

Alex blinked; he appeared frozen, unable to comprehend the sight of John. John barely knew him, but he remembered enough of Hamilton to know that this was odd.

Finally Alex seemed to recoverer. “John Laurens, right?”

“Yeah.” John appraised Alex, who was wearing tattered jeans and a black t-shirt. Pretty much the same outfit as last night, if he was remembering correctly (which he probably wasn’t). What was strange, though, was the look in his eyes. They were guarded, tense, like he was refraining from saying something important. John also noticed was bouncing on the balls of his feet, the picture of the fight or flight instinct. John decided not to comment, however, instead asking:

“What’re you doing here?” John stuck his hands in the pockets of his sweater, trying to hide how affected he was by Alex’s presence. For some reason, his cheeks started to heat up whenever he looked at Hamilton, like he was subconsciously remembering something he couldn’t physically recall.

What had happened last night?

Alex shrugged, bringing John back to attention. “My college isn’t far from here, so I figured I’d walk from my dorm and check this place out.” His eyes darted to John’s face for a brief second, almost expectantly.

John realized the silence between them was growing. “It’s a Sunday,” he said, finally breaking it. “We’re closed Sundays. Nobody’s gonna show, so if you’re interested in a job you should probably come back tomorrow. But hey, I wanted to ask—”

“Yo, Laurens!” Herc called as he appeared at John’s side. “How’d you find him?”

Laf caught up a moment later, weighed down by two grocery bags. He was panting but looked delighted at the sight of Alex. “ _Salut, mon ami_! I was hoping we’d meet again.”

Alex cracked a wary smile. “I was actually interested in a job here.”

Lafayette straightened up even more than usual, if that was possible. “Excellent! I’ll call George right away!” He had a goofy grin plastered on his face as he took out his phone and dialed a number.

“Laf and his fucking first name basis with the boss,” Herc said, shaking his head. “If I called him George, I wouldn’t live to see tomorrow, that’s for sure.”

They fell silent for a moment to listen to Lafayette speaking into his phone.

“Yes, of course.” Laf paused. “Alexander Hamilton. _Oui_. He’s around John’s age, and wants to be a lawyer.”

Herc turned to Alex. “Did John ask you about last night?”

There was definite panic in Alex’s eyes as he swallowed hard and said, “Look, about what happened yesterday—”

“Well, you’re gonna have to fill me in first, because I can’t fucking remember anything past when you told me about your shitstorm of a life.”

Alex stiffened. “Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“In that case...nothing important happened. We just talked, that’s all. You finished your three beers.”

John elbowed Herc. “Ha. You bet I couldn’t. Pay up.”

Herc took a ten dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to John. “That’s the last time I bet against you.”

Alex laughed, and suddenly John was almost overcome with the desire to pick up a pencil and sketchpad and draw him right there and then. He craved the challenge of capturing Alex’s scrappy energy, hungry eyes and raw passion. To feel the familiar flow of lines blossoming out from his pencil like ink in water. Alex’s laugh—head thrown back, one hand tucking back a stray strand of hair that had escaped his ponytail, dark eyes twinkling—ignited something within John. He couldn’t name the feeling, but he tucked the image away into his mind to draw later.

John turned at an excited noise from Lafayette. The frenchman turned to them, put away his phone, and spoke excitedly to Alex.

“The marketing position is yours, Alexander, if you’d like it.”

Alex’s eyes lit up, although John didn’t miss the apprehensive look thrown in his direction. John furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what he’d done to make Alex so uncomfortable. He wasn’t that intimidating, was he?

“Can’t wait to start,” Alex said with a smile, pulling his gaze away from John.

One thing was for certain, John knew, as he walked back to the apartment with Laf and Herc. Alex Hamilton was hiding something. That much was obvious; for all the man’s intelligence, he was a terrible liar.

John was going to find out what it was. No matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Here it's is. Chapter 2. I'm not sure whether to be proud of this chapter or ashamed of the trash I've become. Either way, I hope you enjoyed! Next chapter is Serenity's.
> 
> -Lizzie
> 
> Our tumblr: (where you can submit promps!) https://throw-us-all-away.tumblr.com/post/162112304379/taking-fanfic-promps-requests


	3. Black like my soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex's first day at work. What could go wrong?

Shit. Mother fucking shit. Alex had expected to see John, but not today. Not on a Sunday. The day after getting shitfaced at a bar at two o’ fucking clock in the fucking morning.

He thought he would see him Monday, if he applied for a job. That would have given him a day to think about the events of last night.

_No!_

Alex wouldn’t think of last night ever again. The problem was that he already was. His lips on his, knees going limp as he- nope! Not going to think about it.

Was he gay or was he drunk?

Fuck, he was thinking about it again. He was thinking about it as he studied.

He was thinking about it as he ate dinner.

He was thinking about it as he went to bed.

He dreamed about it. Laurens’ lips on him, eyes shut, freckles everywhere as clear as the stars in the sky.

Alex woke up at 6:30 when dream John Laurens turned into a corgi.

As he stumbled to get dressed, his iPhone 3 buzzed. When he looked at the screen, he nearly shat his pants. He had completely forgotten about his new job.

Alex put an Eggo waffle in the toaster as he grabbed a shirt, any shirt. The first one he grabbed was the one he put on. It was black. Like his soul.

When the toaster rang, Alex ate the waffle in one bite, and got out of the dorm. While he was walking, he kept his eyes out for a coffee shop. He found four.

When he arrived at Washington’s, he realised that there was a coffee shop right next door, so that wasn’t a problem.

The door was suddenly opened by none other than Lafayette.

“ _Bonjour mon ami_!” Lafayette smiled as Hamilton walked into the store.

The first half was just a bunch of clean clothes, or about to be clean clothes waiting for their owners to pick them up. The second half was amazing. There was thousands of racks of clothing, each thing different and unique. It was quite unorganised, but it was still a lot to take in.

Alex then looked at Lafayette, and he realised he was definitely wearing a shirt that was made by Hercules. It was red with a collar. Buttons ran down the front of it, and reached the bottom. On the front it said, “Je Suis Lancelot, Chienne!” Probably Laurens’s work.

_Laurens._

Alex was still on edge from Saturday night. He had forgotten for ten minutes that he worked here. Everytime he was reminded a shiver went up his spine.

Oh god.

The doorbell rang as Hercules walked into the store, talking to John. John looked tired while Hercules looked pumped up. John was drinking some coffee, and Hercules was drinking a Muscle Milk.

“Just fucking say it for god’s sake!” John yelled, clearly annoyed.

“I won’t.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I’m an asshole!” Hercules picked up John and placed him in a chair. “Besides, I want to see how long this lasts.”

“You’re on, Mulligan.” John laughed. Alex couldn’t help but stare. He was thinking about Saturday. The drawing, the kiss…

Then John’s eyes suddenly landed on him.

“Well, if it isn’t Alex Hamilton.”

Alex froze. Would he ever be able to look at him without thinking about that night? Would he ever be able to look at him without seeing a drunk guy at a bar doing regrettable things?

At least he drank so much that he blanked out. Alex thought to himself.

But Alex knew he was a horrible liar.

“Uh, awkward much?”

Alex realised he hadn’t said anything.

“Oh,” he said, “sorry, just not used to this little sleep.” That was both a truth and a lie. Alex had probably gotten more sleep that he ever had last night, but the early rise was taking a toll on him. That, and he couldn’t stop thinking about Saturday.

“So,” this was Hercules, “I should probably show you how things work around here.”

Alex followed him to a table in the back. It was covered in sewing needles, thread, buttons, and basically everything needed to make clothing. On top there was a half sewn shirt. It was blue.

“This is where I work.” Hercules said, gesturing towards the table. “From this table, I can see everything, the front door, the changing rooms, even the bathroom. I’m kind of the security here too, so if I see anyone out of place I chase them out.”

“Why are there two chairs?”

“That’s where Charles sits. He’s supposed to be there,” Hercules pointed to a door, “in his office, designing clothing. Instead, he watches over my ass all day and tells me that I’m doing everything wrong. I would do something about it, but I don’t want to get fired. Not yet.”

Hercules took a sip of his Muscle Milk as he led Alex to a different table towards the front of the shop.

“This is where John works. He’s near the front window so anyone looking can watch him paint on shirts. It attracts business.”

Hercules then led him to the dry cleaners.

“This is where Washington works. He’s the only one willing to do it. Plus, his name kind of works with it.”

Hercules rubbed his cheek as he led Alex back to the clothing side.

"Lafayette roams the entire shop, and he helps people with sizes and shit. Sometimes he’ll model the shirts, like he is today.”

Hercules then brought Alex to a counter with a register.

“This is where you will be working. The bags are here, the register is here, do you know how to use one?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, good, because I have no fucking clue. The financial binders are under the counter if you want to sort it. The last guy wasn’t that neat. If you see anything suspicious, call me and I’ll deal with it. Last thing, no one, under any circumstances, is allowed to change in the bathroom. The bathrooms have windows in them that people can sneak out of with our merchandise. It’s really hard to track someone if they have a head start. I’ve done it, but it still is hard.”

“Yo, Herc?” John yelled from his table.

“Did you tell him the story of when that guy stole your Muscle Milk?”

“Fuck you John Laurens.”

“So,” John snickered as Hercules muttered something under his breath, “It was a normal Tuesday afternoon. I was drawing on a shirt, Hercules was making one, and Laf was helping a guy get the right size shirt. All of a sudden, Laf realised that the guy was drinking Muscle Milk, and he didn’t have it when he walked in. Laf looked over at Herc and saw that his was gone, so he said, “Where’d you get that?” Herc then goes to grab his Muscle Milk, but he didn’t feel it. He looked up at the guy, and realised what the hell was going on. He stood up, and in a deep scary voice that sounded like Satan itself he said ‘YOU!’ and started chasing the poor guy. Next thing you know they’re both out the door and Herc is screaming ‘GIVE ME MY FUCKING MUSCLE MILK!’ A half hour later, I got a text from Herc saying ‘I followed him into the subway. He doesn’t know I’m here. I’ll be home for dinner.’ with a photo of the guy on the subway drinking his Muscle Milk. An hour later I get yet another text from Herc. This one said ‘I followed him to his home. He lives in an condo on the other side of town. I stole a Muscle Milk from his fridge after filling his pipes with cement. This guy’s gonna have a fucking surprise in the morning!’”

Alex, John, and Lafayette started laughing hysterically. Hercules sighed.

“Don’t ever take my fucking Muscle Milk.”

Hercules sat down in his chair and started sewing the other half of his shirt while John started painting one. Lafayette stood next to Laurens and started to paint.

Maybe this won’t be so bad. Alex thought to himself, maybe a little too soon.

The bell on the door jingled as a man walked in. Just by the way he stood Alex could tell it was Charles.

“Fuck.” Hercules, John, and Lafayette all muttered at the same time.

Charles Lee had a coffee in hand and a frown on his face.

“I just wish that Betsy Ross would hire me already.”

“Still dreaming beyond the stars, Charles,” John said.

“Do you want to get fired?”

“You can’t fire me, and I’m sure as hell Washington won’t.”

Charles sat down in his chair next to Mulligan. He took a sip of his coffee and looked down at what Hercules was doing.

“How many times have I told you Hercules, keep your home projects at home! And Gilbert, get that shirt off! Children come here!”

Lafayette grumbled as he walked to the changing room. After taking another sip of coffee, Charles noticed Alex.

“Who are you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you!” Charles said, a little more than aggravated.

“Alexander Hamilton.”

“Well, Alexander, why did you get a job here?”

“Because I need more money for my college tuition.”

“But, why here? At this store?”

“Because it sounded fun.”

Charles started laughing. He was laughing so hard he could have killed himself.

“Fun? FUN? This place is anything but fun. You make clothing, deal with stupid customers, stupid employees, stupid bosses. If you ever have fun, you’re probably dreaming. Or having a nightmare! I recommend-”

Alex was already hating this guy. Charles was talking shit about the people who had helped Alex, taken him in so he could pay for his college tuition. It was also unlike Alex to not speak his mind.

“Actually Charles, I was having fun until you got here, so will you shut your mouth and let us work, please?”

Charles’s jaw dropped wide open and he froze. Hercules covered his mouth as he snickered from behind him. John whooped in the background. Lafayette walked up to Alex.

“ _Si vous continuez à mettre Charles à sa place, je vais avoir Washington vous donner une promotion, mon ami_!”

“You know I speak french right?”

Charles’s frozen posture had been replaced with a more angry and rigid one. Lafayette smiled.

“I know.”

Everyone but Charles laughed. Even Hercules laughed, and he didn’t know a word of french. For once in two days, Alex felt relaxed. He was ready to take on anything that came his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still here, great!  
> I'm sorry for my sins.  
> Thanks.
> 
> -Serenity
> 
> Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/throw-us-all-away (taking fanfic prompts)


	4. I'm satisfied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samuel Seabury makes an appearance and John and Alex just can't chill. Especially when Lee comes into the picture.

The next few weeks steadily improved. For one, John’s frenzied urge to draw Alexander every time he saw him calmed—which was good, because he saw him a lot. Between hours at Washington’s and hanging out at the apartment, Alex went almost everywhere Herc and Laf did. John didn’t mind; Alex prevented him from being the third wheel.

Meanwhile, even after the initial Alex-drawing marathon ended, John filled up his sketchbooks with drawings of his friend. He was frustrated at the way he could never seem to capture the energy crackling through Alex’s form, but he kept trying. It was easy to draw Alex without letting him know he was being drawn; John had been forced to abandon more than one drawing because Alex had moved. But he’d always patiently flip the page and start over.

Strangely, it seemed like every time he turned his back on a sketch it disappeared. John could never catch the person in the act; in the beginning he’d assumed he was misplacing his drawings, but after they disappeared three or four times he was certain it was someone who worked at Washington’s.

He was unnerved, but he didn’t dwell on it. Only sketches had been taken, and he had no place for them, anyway. So he never questioned his friends.

Today Alex was sitting behind the counter at Washington’s, reading a book on world history that looked extremely boring. It was a slow day for business, and John had his sketchbook out, moving his pencil discreetly and sneaking glimpses at Alex every few seconds.

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought John to attention. He looked up to see George Washington standing in the doorway. Their boss’ broad shoulders were rigid, his expression intense. He shoved an indignant looking man in front of him.

“Hello, you four,” Washington greeted. “Have you seen this man before? I found him up a couple of blocks with a fistful of our shirts. Asked him if he was a regular. He tried to run.”

“I don’t think so—” Lafayette began, eyes narrowed, but Herc cut him off.

“I’d recognize that face anywhere. Samuel Seabury. You stole my drink a few months back.”

“You left it on the counter,” Seabury said, struggling to look dignified. “How should I have known it was yours?”

For a second, John thought his friend was going to lunge at the smaller man. Instead, Herc’s posture relaxed and he shrugged dismissively, saying, “I can see why you wanted it so much. Didn’t work, did it?”

Seabury’s face flushed beet red. “This establishment is a flea on the back of this community. You—” he turned to Alex. “You’re new. While you can, I’d suggest getting a job with my employer, Mr. King. His laundromat is much better run, smells like tea instead of this horrid dried paint stink—”

“Hold up,” Alex said, stepping forward. “Lee already tried to convince me to leave, and it didn’t work. If you think you can prance in here, holding stolen shirts which my friend John individually painted, and badmouth this place, you’re wrong.”

John felt a rush of pride. Less than a month and Alex was already one of them, through and through. He also couldn’t help but feel a thrill when his name was mentioned. _Alex. My friend._ Only recently had Alex started to relax around him, and he wouldn’t ruin that for anything.

Alex was nose to with Seabury now. “How did you even get into this place?” he asked. “We don’t usually allow scum through the door. And why exactly did you want our shirts if you hate us so much?”

Seabury said nothing, instead turning around and stalking out of the stood, chin in the air and stolen shirts dropped on the ground.

John turned one over, breathing out a sigh of relief. “This is one of my favorites.” He laughed, holding up the shirt, which was white with a drawing of a washing machine. On the washing machine was the face of Washington. _Come to G. Wash's_ , the shirt read.

“Please tell me you were not selling that, John,” Washington said, groaning.

“Not anymore.” John slid the shirt over his head, grinning when Alex laughed.

“If I catch you wearing that after today, it’s gone, understand?” Washington said.

“Yes, G. Wash,” John said, saluting.

Washington looked murderous. He passed a hand in front of his face before turning to leave. He glanced back at Alex. “Good job today, son. I’m proud of the way you dealt with Seabury.” Then he was gone.

Alex’s face instantly lit up in a smile that he appeared to be trying to suppress. John could relate all too well. When he’d first arrived in New York, penniless and looking for a job, Washington had seemed like a perfect father figure.

Herc clapped Alex on the back, bringing John to attention. “Nice job back there.”

Alex smiled. “If he ever comes back here, he’s in for the time of his life.” His eyes moved around the shop proudly.

In the aftermath of Seabury’s visit, John had forgotten to close his sketchbook. He could see Alex’s gaze land on the drawing of him that John had been working on all day.

_Fucking shit, he’s going to think I’m so weird, what was I thinking drawing him here—_

For once, Alex didn’t speak, but John thought he saw a small smile flit across his lips.

Wishful thinking, he told himself, looking away. Hopefully Alex wouldn’t bring the sketch up in conversation.

“It’s our lunch break,” Herc announced. “I’m not saying another word until I have food in my mouth.”

“Yes, but do not talk with your mouth full,” Lafayette said. Herc rolled his eyes and beckoned the three of them out of the shop. John closed his sketchbook and followed the others out.

The next few days were relaxed. Alex visited the apartment for pizza and a movie, and John thought he might die when he saw him curled up on the couch in pajamas.

 _Keep it together, John_ , he thought. _I do_ not _like Alex Hamilton that way._

But he literally choked on his pizza when Alex crossed his legs over John’s. And when Alex yawned and nestled into the pillows, it took all of John’s willpower not to throw his arms around him and kiss him right then and there. Twice he had to blame his flushed face on the cold apartment, although Laf and Herc didn’t look convinced. Herc even tilted his head toward Alex, now fast asleep (this was probably the only time he’d rested all week) and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at John, who went to bed that night feeling flustered.

Alright, so he did have a problem.

In fact, it was almost a relief when Seabury made his reappearance a week later. Anything to keep his mind off of Alex.

John was in the front, discreetly painting another G. Wash shirt (Washington had confiscated the first one a few days back) when he heard a jingling noise. He looked up. Through the window, he saw Samuel Seabury, dressed like fake royalty and holding a toy bell. His mouth was moving and pedestrians were walking past quickly.

John felt Alex’s arm brush up against his own. He had to take a moment to remember how to breathe before he could understand what Alex was saying.

“...he has no right to be here, on our property—John? Are you okay?” Alex asked. He tipped his head, his warm brown eyes inquisitive.

Holy shit, those eyes…. John shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m a little out of it today.”

Alex took the excuse without question. “Okay. Well, I was saying that I’m going out there and telling Seabury exactly what I think of him and George King. He’s chasing off all our customers.”

John nudged him. “Show them we don’t fuck around.”

He only realized how tense his body was once Alex had moved away for the door. John took a deep breath and followed him out.

In the face of a challenge, Alex seemed to stand straighter. The shadows under his eyes seemed to melt away, and his hands had stopped fidgeting. He marched up aggressively to the man stoically refusing to acknowledge him.

“Seabury,” Alex growled. King’s employee turned around, feigning an innocent look.

“If it isn’t John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton. What might you be doing here?”

John gave him the middle finger. “This is our fucking shop, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Seabury ignored him, instead calling out to a young woman passing by. “This establishment is unsanitary! Enter at the risk of your health.” The  
woman cast Washington’s a frightened gaze and hurried off.

That was when John spotted Charles Lee. He was leaning against a street post, watching with a sneer on his face.

“Serves Washington right. He’s ruined this store with his indecisiveness from crisis to crisis, always losing money—the best thing he can do for this place is to go back to Virginia, where he and his whore wife came from.”

Whore wife! The blood rushed in John’s ears. Charles Lee was sexist, racist, homophobic scum. John took a step forward.

As if from a great distance, he heard Alex and Seabury arguing.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Seabury said. “I pray King shows you his mercy, for pity.”

There was a bark of laughter from Alex. “But strangely your mange is the same. Listen to me—why should a tiny laundromat across the street control how we run our business?”

Charles Lee raised an eyebrow. “That tiny laundromat is where I’ll be working from now on. Unfortunately, your little boyfriend seems to be holding his own. Why don’t you two just kiss? It’d do Seabury’s job for him and scare off everyone decent.”

John had only been really, truly angry twice in his life. The first time was when his father had disowned him and kicked him out of his family’s house in South Carolina. That’d been mixed with sadness, thought, and he hadn’t found it in him to do anything but leave quietly. This time, as everything faded away except him and Lee, he felt only pure, uncontrollable rage.

Four steps and he was nose to nose with the other employee. John swung his fist back, reveling in Lee’s suddenly wide eyes, and struck him in the jaw. There was a cry, a thud. John turned away apathetically. He didn’t care to find out how hurt Lee was.

“—and stay away!” Alex was saying. John watched as Seabury turned tail and fled, all dignity forgotten. Lee remained on the ground.

Alex and John shared a triumphant glance.

“I’m satisfied,” John announced. There was a moment of silence. Then Alex started laughing. “What?” John asked, amused.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just—” Alex broke off into a fresh round of giggles. “Seabury’s face when I told him my dog speaks more eloquently than him!”

John laughed along with him. Alex’s excitement was contagious. “You have a dog?”

“No!” More laughter.

Finally they settled down. “I can’t wait to tell Laf and Herc about this when they get back from their lame-ass break,” John said.

“Washington’s gonna flip.” Alex’s eyes moved to John’s hand. “I’m glad you punched him, but that’s going to bruise.”

John flexed his hand, wincing. “Not as much as Lee’s pride.”

Alex grinned. He stepped closer, throwing his arm around John’s shoulders. “Come on, Laurens, we have work to do.”

All trace of tension from their first day gone, they walked side by side back into Washington’s. Lee was gone, and Alex was finally comfortable around John. That was all he could ask for.

_God, I really am helpless._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Fourth of July, for everyone who lives in the U.S!
> 
> This chapter was super fun to write, and I hope you all enjoyed it! Next week Serenity's chapter will be posted, and it'll mark the start of all the cute Lams fluff that we have planned out. So much Lams fluff. So stay tuned!
> 
> -Lizzie


	5. Meet me inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> G. Wash is not thrilled.

Alex walked back inside Washington’s in triumph. He and John had successfully kicked out Charles and Samuel.

While Alex was verbally fighting with Samuel, John was literally punching Charles. Alex had seen him.

Alex couldn’t help but think he looked like a badass, in a cute way.

_Shit._

These thoughts had been less frequent in Alex’s mind for the past couple of weeks, but the voice was still nagging at him. Alex denied everything it said. Like how it was currently saying “Damn bitch, you fine!”

“What the hell is going on here?”

The whole store froze. Everyone stopped cheering. Even Charles who was sulking outside stopped and looked inside the store.

It was Washington, standing in the middle of the store, looking more pissed than Charles.

Alex felt a bead of sweat drip down his forehead.

_He never swears._

Washington’s eyes bore holes into everyone as he looked around the store.

“Well?”

Washington’s eyes flew to Charles outside and his disappointed expression showed he knew everything that happened. He raced outside.

“Charles?” He patted him on the back. “Are you okay?”

Charles grunted as Washington’s hand met his back.

“No, your employee just punched me!” Charles earned a stare from Washington, so he revised his sentence. “I guess I’m well enough to stand.”

“Okay, good.” Washington sighed as he took his hand off of Charles. “Now get off my sidewalk, stay out of my store, and never come back.”

Washington went back into the store as Charles tried to follow him. Washington slammed the door in his face, and skidded to a halt right in front of Alex.

“Alexander.”

_Shit, my full name._

“Yes?”

“Meet me inside.”

Washington started walking towards what used to be Charles’s office. The voices that used to gossip inside of Alex’s head about john were now preoccupied with Washington’s last sentence. They were chanting.

_Meet him inside._

Alex looked at Lafayette. He was looking at the ground, purposefully trying not to meet Alex’s eyes.

_Meet him inside._

A crinkle came from Herc’s Muscle Milk bottle as he involuntarily crushed it in what seemed to be a mix of anger and sadness.

_Meet him inside._

Alex jumped as Laurens grabbed his shoulder.

“You'll be fine," he said.

Alex pretended not to hear his next words muttered under his breath.

“I hope.”

_Meet him, meet him inside._

The door slammed shut after Alex entered. He was staring into the eyes of George Washington himself.

“Son."

Alex winced. He had seen Washington as a father figure, (it was hard not to, he took care of everyone he met.) but son was the last thing Alex wanted to be called at the moment.

“Don't call me son.”

“I don’t need you getting into fights for me.”

“How can I stand my ground when I hear these people take your store’s name, your name, and rake it through the mud?”

“I can handle it!”

“No you can’t, at least not alone. Not with George King harassing you.”

“What are you suggesting?”

Alex stopped for a moment. He considered to just forget what he was going to say. He had been turned down multiple times. He thought about this for a second, just a second, but it’s unlike Alex to keep his mouth shut.

“What if you let me help?”

“No.”

"Why not?” Alex could feel anger starting to build up inside of him. “I’m a lawyer in training after all. I can help more than you can imagine.”

“Son, I know you can help, but that's not it.”

“Then what is it?”

“You're in college. You have so many years ahead of you. If we end up going to court with them and we fail, son I don’t want that to be the end of your career.”

“It won't be the end.”

Anger had almost completely filled Alex.

If only he could see.

Washington tried to calm hi down by letting his hand rest on Alex’s back, but Alex wanted no part of it and shooed it away. Washington frowned.

“Son-”

“Call me son one more time!”

Washington stumbled backwards. Alex had whipped his head around to look at Washington. As their eyes met Alex suddenly regretted everything.

“Go home, Alexander.”

Alex looked down.

“But-”

“I said go home.”

Alex turned and opened the door and Washington followed. As Alex gathered his stuff, everyone watched.

“John.”

Alex looked over to see Washington gesturing for him to come into the room. The chant reignited in Alex’s head.

_Meet him inside._

The door to the office closed, concealing John and Washington on the other side.

_Meet him inside._

Laf lowered his gaze as Hercules opened the door for Alex.

"See you again, _mon ami_.”

_Meet him inside._

Alex took a step outside the door. He heard the door close as he took a deep breath. The cold autumn breeze flew past him as the chant ended.

_Meet him, meet him inside._

Alex glanced at his phone. It read 12:15. Only halfway through the day.

Alex made his way to the his dorm. Withen ten minutes he was there. When he opened the door, he placed his stuff on the floor, and bee lined to his bed.

After plopping on his bed, Alex stared at the napkin that still hung up on the wall. It was a happier version of himself. Maybe a more tired one too.

Alex no longer felt weird around Laurens. Okay, maybe he felt a little weird, but not in the same way.

Alex had now convinced himself that they were both drunk, and nothing was going on between them. Alex felt mostly confident in that. What he wasn’t very confident in was how he acted around John. He always seemed to mess up.

Like how he almost set the building on fire when he tried painting a shirt at John’s request.

_Just like my fucking boat._

Or how he almost gave a guy 100 dollars instead of ten when he was giving him his change, while staring at John. He was trying to secretly draw a picture of Alex, but wasn't being quite secretive enough. Later on Alex took the drawing that John had forgotten to take with him. He hung it up right next to the napkin, along with several (ha! More like thousands) of drawings that John had done of Alex. Only one of which John had given willingly.

_John._

John might be fired because of him getting in an argument with Samuel.

A wave of guilt spread over Alex.

_What if I have gotten him fired. Will I ever forgive myself?_

Alex jumped as his phone buzzed.

**John Laurens**

JL: hey, what are you doing?

AH: Nothing. What about you?

JL: just hanging out in the apartment. wanna come?

AH: Sure!

Alex wouldn't have to be bored anymore, but his breath hitched as he remembered that John may have been fired because of him. He had to ask.

AH: By the way, did you get in any trouble with G Wash?

JL: nothing big. just sent home. idk how long tho

AH: IDK?

JL: i don’t know

AH: Oh.

At least John wasn’t fired. Alex still felt guilty.

As Alex walked out his dorm’s front door, his phone buzzed.

JL: If you come quickly, I have a bowl of mac-n-cheese with your name on it.

Alex snickered as he replied.

AH: Thank fucking god.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have started sinning :3! *cheers* Lizzie's chapter will have Lams fluff. *whoop whoop!* Lots of lams fluff. Hope you are looking forward to the next chapter on Tuesday!
> 
> -Serenity


	6. I'm sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Washington sends John home, where he spends some quality time with Alex and learns something that's been kept from him :3 lots of lams fluff guys!

John watched open-mouthed as Alex disappeared into Lee’s old office with Washington.

He was certain he’d gotten Alex fired. What had he been thinking, punching Lee? Of course Washington was mad; he’d always stood up for the asshole. And while Lee was finally gone, John couldn’t help but feel the price was going to be too great.

Across the room, Herc and Laf were smiling and laughing. Herc turned to John and crossed the room with a spring in his step.

“Lee’s gone! Now we can finally have some fun around here!” He embraced John in a rib-crushing hug. John shrugged him off.

“Stop celebrating. We didn’t win.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Alex is in trouble with Washington. What the fuck do we do if he’s fired?”

“Dude.” Herc put a hand on John’s shoulder. “Alex will be fine. Washington’s a nice guy, he’ll understand. It’s you I’m worried about.” Herc glanced down to John’s bruised knuckles.

The office door swung open. Washington emerged with Alex trailing behind him, silent for once.

Head down, Alex gathered his things and left. John stared as the shop door closed. He hadn’t missed the way his friend’s cheeks had been burning; suddenly he wanted to throw down his painting smock and follow him out. His fists clenched.

Washington cleared his throat, reminding his employees that he was still there.

“John.”

John pushed away Herc’s hand and refused to look back at either of his friends as he followed Washington into Lee’s old office. John glared at his boss as he shut the door behind them.

“Look, John,” Washington began. “I know you boys meant well, but your actions today have only given George King more incentive to shut us down. That’s why—”

“Did you fire Alex?” John interrupted.

Washington was silent for a moment, watching John closely. “We’ll see,” he finally said. “I sent him home for now. I need some time to think that over.”

“I’m the one who punched Lee,” John reminded him. “Alex was just defending the shop.”

“I am fully aware of that. And have you considered, John, that I may fire you too?”

He had. But Washington’s wouldn’t be the same without Alex. Without empty coffee cups strewn across the counters, without his tired morning smile, without their playful (but sometimes heated) debates about politics and how much sleep a person needs and whether or not the turtles in John’s drawings look steamrolled. He’d always been willing to resign in a heartbeat if Herc or Laf were fired, and now he would for Alex, too. He was one of them—a part of the Washington’s family.

“If Alex can’t come back, I’ll be happy to be fired.”

Washington sighed. “Go home, John. And check on Alexander. Lafayette will keep you updated.”

John tried to swallow back the fear rising up inside him. He reminded himself that this was what he wanted. Maybe Washington would decide to let Alex stay, after all. Maybe it’d all turn out okay, and he wouldn’t lose the one place he’d ever belonged.

As he turned to leave, Washington spoke. John glanced back and saw that his eyes were twinkling. “And, John… don’t think I don’t know there’s something going on between you and Alex.”

Caught off guard, John froze. He did some quick thinking. Protest, and it would be obvious he was covering up something. Let Washington believe what he wanted, and he might increase the chances of him and Alex not being fired.

John turned to face his boss, raised an eyebrow, and left while inwardly panicking.

His boss knew about his feelings for Alex. Who else knew? Oh god, he wouldn’t hear the end of it from Herc if he ever found out. Then again, maybe he already knew.

John shoved the increasingly alarming thought out of his head.

Back at the apartment, he replayed the events of the day in his mind. One thing in particular stuck.

_...Something going on between you and Alex._

Did that mean… had Washington seen anything to make him believe that Alex…?

_No. Alex doesn’t like me that way._

With nothing else to distract himself, John took out his phone and pulled up Alex’s contact.

**A. Ham**

JL: hey, what are you doing?

The reply came almost instantly. John flopped onto the couch, almost sitting on Chloé, who promptly scrambled up on top of him.

AH: Nothing. What about you?

JL: just hanging out in the apartment. wanna come?

AH: Sure!

AH: By the way, did you get in any trouble with G Wash?

John’s shoulders tensed up. What he tell him? _Yeah, I’m probably fired, woo_! He decided it’d be better not to freak Alex out until he knew for sure.

JL: nothing big. just sent home. idk how long tho

AH: IDK?

John smiled. Of course Alex wouldn’t know what IDK meant. He’d barely seen technology before coming to New York. John imagined Alex, the prodigy student, struggling to work an iPhone. The image was cute, and he chuckled as he shot back a reply.

JL: i don’t know

AH: Oh.

John struggled to his feet, pushing Chloé off his lap, and walked into the kitchen. He checked the cabinets. Mac-n-cheese, great. Stomach rumbling, he sent a final text.

JL: if you come quickly, i have a bowl of mac n cheese with your name on it

AH: Thank fucking god.

JL: if i dont burn it, i mean

AH: Hey, I’m not picky ;)

AH: OK, heading over.

Miraculously, John burned neither the mac-n-cheese nor the apartment, and he was just scooping the contents of the pot into a bowl when there was a knock on the door.

He opened it to see Alex, hands in the pockets of a baggy sweatshirt and looking considerably more cheerful than earlier.

They stood there a moment, staring at each other. John didn’t want to talk about Washington, but he also couldn’t ignore the fact that they both could be fired.

“I’m sorry,” Alex finally blurted.

“For what?” John asked, surprised.

“I shouldn’t have started an argument with Seabury. I could’ve gotten you fired.”

“I shouldn’t have punched Lee,” John pointed out. “It’s not your fault. C’mon, let’s eat lunch.” He led Alex into the kitchen, where they took seats at the island. John divided the mac-n-cheese into two bowls.

“Oh my god.” Alex laughed. “Disney princess-shaped mac-n-cheese?”

John grinned. “Herc’s favorite.”

After an argument about whether cats or dogs were better (John said dogs, Alex cats, although John suspected he was arguing just for the sake of it), a round of Rock-Paper-Scissors to see who would do the dishes (they ended up leaving them for Herc and Laf), laughing about Lee’s expression after John had punched him, and two empty bowls of mac-n-cheese, Alex stood up.

“Let’s get ice cream,” he said suddenly.

“Alex, it’s fall. We’ll freeze.”

Alex smirked. John shook his head and laughed.

“Alright, crazy.”

They walked down the block to the nearest ice cream parlour. Alex ordered coffee ice cream (as if he needed something to keep him up even later than usual) and John got vanilla cinnamon, a flavor Alex was highly skeptical of.

“Try it,” John urged him, holding out his cone. Alex accepted it, passing his to John. He hesitated, then took a bite.

Suddenly his eyes widened and he shoved John’s ice cream back into his hands. “It’s...cold!” He managed through winces. John couldn’t help it; he cracked up.

“It’s not funny!” Alex said indignantly when he’d recovered enough from his brain freeze.

“You’re supposed to lick it, Alex.”

Alex stuck his leg out, tripping John, who laughed and returned the gesture. Alex made a small noise of surprise, holding his hands out in front of him to catch his fall. Unfortunately, this meant dropping his ice cream. John reached out to grab Alex, but he was too late and Alex hit the ground, the ice cream landing on top of him. Right as it seemed the situation couldn’t get worse, Alex’s leg somehow got tangled with John’s, and he went crashing down too.

John found himself staring into wide brown eyes. He was on top of Alex, their chests pressed together and noses so close they were almost touching. He thought he should move, but his body didn’t seem able to take the command from his brain.

His first thought in this position was not _“shit, I need to get up,”_ or, _“oh god, he’s not gonna want to talk to me ever again.”_ It was _“fuck, he can see all my freckles.”_

The seconds were ticking by, and they still hadn’t made an effort to get up. John figured he’d better start, so he planted a hand on the cold concrete and attempted to push himself to his feet.

Then his eyes locked on Alex’s again. He felt Alex shudder beneath him, and it was all John could do to bite back his gasp. His arm gave out; he was too preoccupied with how he _liked_ this, the feel of Alex's breath on his cheeks and their bodies so close—but no, Alex was probably so uncomfortable right now, being in this position with a guy he considered a friend.

_I’m getting up. For Alex._

He finally managed to push himself to his feet. He averted his gaze as Alex propped himself up into a sitting position, instead focusing on what he hadn’t noticed before: both of their clothes were smeared with ice cream.

John shook his head, feeling like he could breathe again. “Shit, sorry, Alex.” He was about to extend a hand to help his friend up, but Alex popped up, laughing.

“At least there’s no ice on the ground yet.” Alex reached down to pick up the cone, ignoring his ice cream-covered hoodie. John, taken back by this reaction, stood dumbfounded.

Alex almost seemed… more cheerful than earlier.

“I appreciate you wanting to clean the planet, but we should probably get back to the apartment. You can borrow some pajamas and we can watch a movie or some shit.”

Alex pulled his sweatshirt off, shivering. “Y-yeah, okay. I probably should’ve worn a long sleeve shirt…”

“C’mere.” John put his arm around Alex’s shoulder. He immediately dropped it as the other man sucked in a breath. “Sorry, I should have asked,” John said, stepping away. Heat rose to his cheeks. Shit. Why’d he have to go mess things up, especially right after—

“N-no! That was just from the cold. Don’t worry.” Alex moved closer, pressing against John’s side.

He tried to ignore how red Alex’s face was. _He’s just cold._ John instead focused on not tripping as he put his arm back around Alex and kept walking.

When they reached the apartment, the elevator was out of service (he’d gotten use to it), so they trudged up the stairs to the seventh floor. John unlocked the door to the apartment and they collapsed on the couch.

While Alex caught his breath (John guessed his friend didn’t get much exercise, sitting around writing essays all day) John went to find some pajamas. He and Alex were the same height, so it wasn’t hard to pick out a pair. They were long-sleeved and baggy, patterned with tiny turtles. John got out of his soiled clothes and into a comfortable t-shirt and fluffy pajamas bottoms. Then he grabbed the turtle PJs and headed back to the couch. He held them out to Alex.

“Turtles?” Alex smiled.

“Shut up. Take it or leave it.”

Alex took the pajamas and changed while John turned his back, willing himself not to think about Alex, bare chested—nope, he wasn’t going to think about it.

“So, why the turtle fetish?” Alex asked, when he was done. John laughed.

“When I was a kid, my mom would take me down to the lake to feed the ducks. But ducks are boring as shit, so I’d sit there for hours and watch the turtles. As I got older, it became the only place where I felt happy.”

Alex was silent for a moment. Then, “I can relate. There was a place like that back on Nevis. My mom’s desk. When I wrote, it was like everything else disappeared.” He paused. “Your dad… did he beat you?”

John shook his head. “No, nothing like that. But he sure as hell didn’t want a gay son. He disowned me a few years ago.”

“So, you’re…?”

“Yeah. C’mon, you already knew that.”

Alex nodded. John noticed he was biting his lip. There it was again. That thing he wasn’t being told.

John decided not to question it, for now. “Let’s watch a movie,” he decided. “You can pick. There’s a stack over there.”

While Alex went through the DVDs, John picked up his phone to see a text from Herc.

**Horse Fucker**

HM: you guys fired? laf didnt know

JL: not sure yet. hopefully not

HM: hopefully

HM: laf and i got out late. we’re getting drinks. are u okay on your own?

JL: actually, alex is over here with me

HM: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

JL: fuck u

“Hey, John,” Alex called. “How about this one?” John put his phone down to see Alex holding up their copy of Spaceballs, smirking.

John gave him a thumbs up. “I never get to see that one because Laf thinks it’s dumb.”

“I’ve actually never seen it.”

“What the fuck, Alex. Never seen Spaceballs? We’ve gotta properly educate you.”

Alex laughed as John put the disc in. “College isn’t enough?”

John started the movie. “College doesn’t teach you the real shit. Now shut up and watch.”

It was fun watching with Alex. Since he'd never seen the movie before, he kept making little noises of surprise whenever something weird happened, and occasionally, commentary (“what the fuck man, Darth Vadar wears a tie?”). John didn’t mind. It was cute.

Just like Alex. Halfway through the movie, his head was almost resting on John’s shoulder. Alex seemed to have no qualms about getting close, even if it was only for warmth.

 _That’s probably because he’s straight and he doesn’t know that I—that I…. that I what?_ Like him?

It sounded childish but John didn’t know how else to describe the growing affection he felt for his friend. He’d stopped trying to convince himself that he didn’t have feelings for Alex. But there was no way they’d ever be returned. 

Just as Yoghurt was giving the Schwartz to Lone Star, the TV screen flickered and turned dark. All around them, lights died, leaving the room nearly pitch black. Through the window, the city was going dark.

John felt Alex shiver as the heater stopped.

“Here, let me grab some blankets,” John said, reaching for his phone. It took him a minute to find it, but when he did, he instantly felt better. He turned the phone flashlight on, bathing the room in a pale glow.

“Right when it was getting good,” Alex muttered.

John made his way to the linen closet, disappointed, but also excited. Blackouts were fun. They meant blankets and leftovers and card games. He checked the time on his phone. 8:30. Shit, they hadn’t eaten yet.

John opened the closet (almost tripping over Chloé, who was gnawing on Herc’s favorite beanie) and took the only blanket there. Chloé must have destroyed the rest. Oh well. He’d give it to Alex—the guy was always cold. Then he stumbled into the kitchen area, grabbed the leftover pizza from last night and a deck of cards conveniently lying on the island (John had been teaching Lafayette how to play war. Laf had quit), and returned to the couch.

“Sorry, the pizza’s cold,” John said. He tossed the blanket to his friend.

Alex caught it and spread it out on the couch. “C’mere. We can share.”

John was surprised, but grateful. They ate the pizza while he divided up the cards. “War?”

“Sure.” Alex took his half of the deck. “I’m stubborn, though. This might go on for a while.”

“Same,” John said, grinning.

Huddled around the phone light, laughing and playing cards, John had the most fun he’d had in weeks. After half an hour, he started winning. An hour later they were still going at it, both too stubborn to quit.

“One, two, three—go!” Alex shouted, flipping over his three of hearts as John revealed a king of spades.

John grinned and took the card.

“I may only have one card left, but it’s an ace and I’m going to win. Just you wait.” Alex threw down his next card, ace of clubs, which beat John’s eight of hearts.

“Fuck you,” John said, laughing.

“So forward, Laurens,” Alex replied. They both froze, staring at each other. Alex was blushing. John realized he probably was, too.

With great effort, he broke the silence. “Whoever loses has to truthfully answer any question, okay?”

“But you have so many cards!”

“Is Alex Hamilton backing down from a challenge?” John elbowed him.

“Fine. But you’re going to regret this.”

Despite Alex’s determined, John won within the next two minutes.

“Okay, question time!” John said, throwing his cards at Alex.

Alex groaned, brushing cards off his lap. He kicked John under the blanket. John laughed and kicked him back.

He knew exactly what question he was going to ask.

“What really happened the night we met?”

Alex froze. “What I already told you,” he said lamely.

John sat up, leaning closer to his friend. “Please, Alex. I know there’s something you’re not telling me. I did something stupid, didn’t I?”

Alex fidgeted. “I don’t want to ruin… this.” He made a vague gesture at the two of them. “You might not want to know,” he warned.

“Shit, Alex. Whatever I did, I’m really, really sorry. I was drunk. I promise it won’t compromise our friendship.”

Alex’s eyes, shining in the phone light, dropped to the ground. “We—you…” he pointed to his lips.

The simple motion was all John needed. He’d drunk kissed Alex. _He'd drunk kissed_ Alex Hamilton.

He wasn’t sure if he felt better or worse. He was glad he knew, even though he felt bad forcing Alex to tell him. But he was not going to let it ruin their friendship, as he’d promised.

Besides, he was secretly glad he hadn't done something worse.

“Fuck, I—I'm sorry, that probably made you so uncomfortable. Especially if, you know, you don’t like guys.” Shit, what was he saying? His newfound determination was crumbling away as he spoke. Questioning Alex’s sexual orientation probably wasn’t the best way to settle this.

“Actually…” Alex’s eyes met John’s and quickly moved away. “I think… I think I’m bisexual. But I’m not sure, so please don’t tell anyone.”

John felt a thrill. Alex was possibly bi! That opened up a whole world of possibilities—but no, Alex would never like him that way. He was sure of it.

And why was he even thinking about that? Here was Alex, confessing something he’d hidden for a long time… not to mention there was a chance Alex would never talk to him again now that he knew the truth about the night they’d met.

John couldn’t help wishing he remembered the kiss. It was probably the only one he’d ever get—no. Priorities. He had to reassure Alex.

“Don’t worry,” he said, wanting to reach out to Alex but unsure if the other man would be uncomfortable if John touched him. “Nothing we say here leaves this room. Thanks for telling me. It doesn’t change what I did, though. Believe it or not, it’s happened before.” John felt his cheeks heat up, but he needed to confess everything. He owed it to Alex. “That’s why Herc and Laf usually watch me when I’m drunk. I do shitty things, like kiss people without consent.”

“It’s happened before?” Alex asked. Was that… was that disappointment in his gaze?” No. Surely Alex was just disappointed in how dumb John had acted.

“Yeah.” John sighed. “That’s… actually how I met Herc.”

“You’re kidding!” Alex cracked up. John laughed a bit, too.

“Nope. Luckily, Herc’s used to that kind of stuff. He, uh, gets around.” John wiggled his eyebrows.

Alex flopped back against the couch as the tension between them dissipated. “Whew. I’m glad we got through that. You’ve probably noticed I’m a terrible liar.”

“Not as bad as Laf. He speaks in French when he’s nervous.” Alex laughed as John got to his feet. He extended a hand. “So. Can we still be friends? Because no one else wants to get ice cream in the fall and watch Spaceballs with me.”

Alex took it. “Friends,” he confirmed with a smile.

Just then, the apartment lights went back on. Outside the window the city shone and twinkled. John squinted, willing his eyes to adjust to the light.

The TV flickered on and began to resume Spaceballs.

“Hey, we can finally finish it!” Alex said, beaming. He looked like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. John realized he felt more relaxed, too.

 _Friends,_ Alex promised in John’s mind.

_It’s not over. Thank god. And if just being friends means I can keep hanging out with Alex, I can live with that. That’s all we’d ever be, anyway._

But as he watched Alex fall asleep, head on John’s chest and legs tangled with his, he felt more hopeful than ever.

He was just dozing off when Herc and Laf opened the apartment door and stood in the entrance, taking in the sight of Alex and John on the couch, Spaceballs playing in the background, and cards everywhere.

John could’ve sworn he heard Herc mutter to Laf, “Why don’t they just get together already?”

“Shh. These things take time,” Laf whispered back.

John wrapped an arm around Alex, whose mouth sleepily twitched up into a smile. Then he let go of reality and drifted off into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. That one was long. Since we're only writing in notebooks, computerizing chapter 6 was kinda a huge endeavor :')
> 
> Stay tuned for Serenity's chapter 7, in which Alex and John do something preeetty regrettable.
> 
> -Lizzie


	7. You look like you need a toilet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and John are bored and they have no food. Why not get gas station sushi?

Alex’s eyes opened to find the dimly lit living room. The sun peeked in through the windows and landed right on Alex’s face.

Alex flinched. Was the couch moving?

_No, it can’t be._

Yes, Alex was on the couch, but John was separating him from it.

While John’s left leg was on the ground to keep them on the couch, his right leg was wrapped around Alex’s legs. John’s right arm was clinging onto the couch while his left was holding Alex’s right hand. Alex’s left hand was subconsciously playing with John’s endless curls.

Alex was lying on his belly while John was lying on his back. Alex’s head was lying on John’s chest, facing his right. Alex had been sleeping right in the middle of John.

Alex slowly moved his head to look up at John. Alex suddenly realised that John was awake.

_What the hell am I doing?_

John looked fearful, but there was something else. Was he blushing or was it Alex’s imagination?

Alex blushed when he realised that Laf and Herc were in the room watching them with huge smiled plastered on their faces.

They were trying to pretend that they weren't watching, but they were watching.

As soon as Herc realised John and Alex were watching him, he waltzed up to the couch and rested his elbow on the back of it.

“The turtle pj’s, huh. John never gives those out to anyone.”

John looked like he wanted to say something, but he just blushed.

After having a staring contest with Herc and Laf, he turned to Alex.

“Let's get out of here. Your place?”

“Sure.”

After changing out of John’s turtle pj’s (no matter how hard Herc and Laf would try to get him to keep it on) the two were on their way to Alex’s dorm.

“I must warn you, it's a mess.”

“Really? I would think you would keep your roommate in check.”

As Alex opened the door, he immediately saw John’s eyes go wide. Alex made his way to his bedroom.

“No, actually. It's me. I haven't had enough time to clean with college, hanging out at Washington's, and going to your place.” Alex opened the door to his room. “My room is the worst.”

As John walked into Alex’s room, he immediately regretted it as they both saw the countless drawings that John had made of Alex.

Was John… smiling?

“So this is where all my drawings went. I thought Herc and Laf had taken them.”

“I thought they were really good, so I took one or two.”

John laughed.

“One or two? Alex, there are hundreds up here!”

The wall was now completely covered in drawings of himself. The napkin was still in the middle.

John’s eyes landed on the napkin.

“Where's this one from?”

“Uh, that one’s from the night you, uh…”

“Oh.”

John and Alex stood awkwardly looking at the wall. Alex was definitely blushing, but he didn't know for certain if John was. He thought he saw something, but he didn't look for long.

Finally, Alex broke the silence.

“You want some food?”

“Sure.”

“Shit.” Alex closed the door he was currently looking in.

“What?”

“My roommate stole my digiorno pizzas.”

“What do we do now?”

“I don't know.”

John and Alex looked around the room some more. Then, John gained a devilish look on his face.

“Alex?”

“Yeah?”

“What if we got… gas station sushi?”

“Why would we get gas station sushi willingly?”

“What if we made it into a game?”

Alex smiled.

“I'm listening.”

“If one of us gets sick, the other one has to watch them and cater to their every whim.”

“And what if we both get sick?”

“Then we have Herc watch us. Or we go to George King’s.”

“I'm in.”

_Why the hell did I do this?_

Alex had followed Laurens to the nearest gas station. Luckily, they sold sushi.

The man working the counter had stared at them in disbelief as they each grabbed a plastic container and plopped them on the counter in front of him.

“You sure you want those? I'm not gonna lie to you, those things suck.”

“Yes,” Alex answered, “we want them.”

“Wow.”

As Alex paid for the sushi, John grabbed two forks. They both walked outside to a bench. John's eyes twinkled as they took the cover off the plastic container holding the sushi.

“You ready?” John asked.

Alex raised his fork into the air.

“Sushi, do your worst!”

Two hours later, Alex was hunched over a toilet vomiting more than his body weight. John wasn't there. He had gone back to his own apartment claiming, “if I'm gonna be throwing up my guts, it's in my toilet!”

_John has to watch me now._

Alex’s heart skipped a beat as he thought about it.

Alex had accepted he was bi-sexual. He had only half accepted his (undeniable) crush on his friend.

Alex was hunched over as he stumbled over to his phone. He dialed John’s number, and John immediately picked up.

“Guess who has to watch me you mother…”

Alex was cut off by the sudden urge to run to his toilet and throw up his guts.

“Alex? Are you okay?”

“What do you think? I just threw up my guts for the third time!”

“Do you think you can walk over here? It'd be a lot easier to watch you in my apartment.”

“Sure, but I might need you to meet me halfway.”

“I'm walking out of the door now.”

Five minutes later, John found Alex puking in a plant that belonged to a flower shop.

John, clearly not embarrassed by his friend puking in a pot, patted Alex’s back.

“Just get it all out.”

Alex’s head turned when the bell on the flower shop's door jingled.

“Oh my god are you okay? Do you want some water?”

Alex lifted his head and looked at the woman.

She had brown hair that wrapped around her face, and she looked genuinely worried. Alex wasn't sure if she was worried for him or the plant.

“Yes, actually, that sounds great.”

“Wait.” John tugged Alex back as the woman went back into the flower shop. “Is it safe to get water from a stranger, or even worse, a stranger who has your vomit in their plant?”

“Is it safe to get sushi from a gas station? I need some water John.”

Alex walked inside the flower shop and was immediately met by the woman holding a water bottle and a trash bag. She gave them both to Alex.

“If there's anything else you need, you can come here. Or better yet, you can call me! Do you want my phone number?”

A loud shriek came from the back of the store and a girl came bouncing around and over objects.

“Eliza! Eliza! Eliza!”

“Yes?”

“Are you getting a boyfriend?”

“No!”

The girl stopped jumping up and down.

“I found this guy-”

“Alex.”

“Alex puking in the potted plant outside. I was just offering him some help.”

“Whoa, wait. He puked in the potted plant?”

Alex nodded.

“Shit. I have to clean that up now!”

“Peggy, you don't work here.”

“Shhh! Eliza! He doesn't know that!”

John snickered and whispered into Alex’s ear.

“I think I like that one.”

“Well,” John said, “I think we'd better head off. We’ll see you again.”

“See you!” Eliza waved.

“Wait!” Peggy grabbed Alex and John’s phones and out of their pockets and added three new contacts to them. John looked at his phone once he got it back.

“Wait, why are there three new contacts?”

Peggy shrugged. “I figured I might as well add Angelica too.”

“The Schuyler sisters.” Alex said.

“Yup.”

“Well,” John said, “See you later!”

“Bye!” Peggy and Eliza said at the same time.

As they exited the flower shop, John turned to Alex.

“You look like you need a toilet.”

“I also need some blankets and a movie because you cater to my every whim now.”

“Screw you, Alex.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! We will post another chapter next week, and I hope you are looking forward to it. There's definitely more lams fluff on the way!
> 
> -Serenity


	8. So, you and Alex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sick Alex is a nightmare, especially after he loses his dorm room because he hasn’t paid rent. Luckily, John has an idea.

“Okay, having you as my personal servant is great, John, but sitting around is so boring,” Alex complained. He was shivering on the couch, wrapped in blankets, while John struggled to make chicken noodle soup behind the kitchen island.

“Alex, it’s only been thirty minutes,” John said, exasperated. He loved his friend’s company, but sick Alex was honestly a nightmare.

“Let’s go get some coffee,” Alex decided. “There’s a place down the block.”

“Fucking God, Alex, _sit down_. You aren’t going anywhere. You keep puking every five minutes.”

“I’d rather puke outside. I might get freebies again!” Alex pulled out his phone. “Speaking of that, I’m going to text Eliza and thank her.”

John fought to keep his voice from coming out as a growl as he said, “All she gave you was some water. And you just fucking met her. Isn’t it weird that she gave her not only her own number but both of her sisters’?” He turned the burner off and sat down on the unoccupied part of the couch.

“Peggy did,” Alex corrected. “Why’re you acting like this? Worried I’ll replace you?” He weakly elbowed John.

The question hit a little too close to home. John wasn’t sure he wanted bisexual Alex hanging out with a bunch of pretty girls. Especially that Eliza.

She just seemed so… nice. John hated her.

He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he didn’t. After a moment of silence, Alex said, “Did you burn the soup or is it edible?”

“Hey.” John nudged him, trying to wipe away the worried look on his face. “Are you doubting my cooking skills? Of course it’s fucking edible. Although I’m not sure you can keep it down.”

Alex looked indignant. “Of course I can—” He broke off, looking queasy. “Fuck,” was all he had time to say before he shoved the blankets away and made a mad dash in the direction of the bathroom.

John wasn’t sure if he should laugh or be seriously concerned.

When Alex returned, looking dejected, John had a bowl of soup waiting for him. “I bet you five dollars you can’t keep your soup down….”

“I hate you,” Alex said, pouting. John caught himself staring at his lips. It took great effort to tear his gaze away from what was arguably the cutest Alex expression ever.

John finished his soup in a few minutes and watched as Alex determinedly struggled to empty his bowl.

A buzz from Alex’s phone made him put down his spoon. “Maybe it’s Eliza,” he said.

He scanned the screen. John watched as Alex’s face morphed into horror.

“Fuck,” Alex cursed. “Fucking _shit_. They can’t do that!”

“What?” John was on his feet. “Is everyone alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” Alex shoved his phone into John’s hands. “See for yourself. I need to use the bathroom.”

John watched him run out of the room, forgetting to gloat about winning the bet he’d made as he turned his attention to the phone screen. “Oh, shit,” he mumbled.

**The Boring John**

JJ: hey, check your email. they’re thinking of kicking you out of the dorm. something about you not paying rent. seriously, alexander?

John wanted to smack this guy. At least Alex didn’t seem to like him either, judging by his contact name.

John suddenly wondered what Alex’s contact for him was.

Miraculously, he managed to refrain from checking and instead navigated to Alex’s inbox. There he found the email that had caused Alex’s panic.

**Columbia University**  
**To: AlexanderHamilton@gmail.com**

John’s eyes moved down the email, widening as he read. Alex’s college was threatening to kick him out of his dorm room! Since he was on hiatus from work, John didn’t see how Alex could afford to pay rent if he hadn’t already.

As Alex re-entered the room, John handed the phone back to him.

“What am I gonna do? I can’t afford to rent an apartment.”

John didn’t respond right away. An idea was forming in his head, growing bigger as he thought about it.

“Why’d I have to go argue with Seabury and ruin everything. I fuck up every opportunity—”

“You could live with us,” John blurted.

Alex stared at him. “What?”

“Well, y’know, Laf bought this apartment with his crazy-ass French inheritance, so none of us pay rent. And I’m sure Herc and Laf wouldn’t mind. We’ve got an extra room.”

Alex blinked. “I can’t accept that.”

“C’mon,” John urged him. “It’d be fun. Besides, you practically live here already.”

“Alright. If you’re sure,” Alex said. “I’ll find a way to pull my weight. Hey, on a side note, I think I’m finally done puking!”

“But you’re still shivering like you just came out of an ice box,” John pointed out.

Alex sighed. “I’d kick you if I didn’t owe you one. If you really don’t mind, I’ll get my stuff when I’m not dead on the couch.”

“That might take a while,” John said. “Just tell me what you own and I’ll have Herc pick it up.”

He would’ve volunteered to go himself, but last time had been pretty awkward. He wasn’t sure if he could handle seeing all his sketches of Alex pinned up on the wall—especially the napkin doodle, the one he couldn’t remember drawing. It wasn’t that he minded Alex taking them. It felt nice to know that someone liked his art. But it was embarrassing that Alex knew how much John liked to draw him.

He made a vow to himself that nobody would never see the dozens of sketchbook pages covered with Alex-drawings that he’d hidden in his own room.

Alex rattled off the list of his possessions as John wrote it down and texted it to Herc, who immediately agreed that Alex should move in with them. John was surprised at how little Alex owned, but he didn’t comment on it.

**2French2Function**

JL: hey laf i decided that alex is moving in with us  
GdM: .  
GdM: can we trade him for you?  
JL: is that a yes?  
GdM: why not, petit chienne. tell him not to move Chloé’s things

John grinned. “Laf says yes.”

Alex released a breath. “Thanks so much for this, John.”

He shrugged. “I kinda owe it to you after making you eat gas station sushi.”

“I’d do it again,” Alex said.

“Yeah?”

“I got to spend time with you.” Alex was looking right at John, who could feel his friend’s eyes burning into his. He swallowed and managed to tear his gaze away, regretting it when Alex’s cheeks flushed.

“Hey, do you want another blanket?” John offered, trying to wipe away the awkwardness thickening the air.

Alex nodded and John left the room to get him one. He passed a hand through his annoying wild hair, trying to ignore the possible implications of Alex’s words. Had he been saying that he… that he somehow…

John shook his head clear. This friendship wasn’t going to work if he kept interpreting Alex’s words as proof of feelings that didn’t exist.

He spontaneously decided to take the whole pile of blankets, and returned with at least five, which he tossed onto the couch.

“ _Another_ blanket.” Alex quirked an eyebrow. “That implies one.”

John laughed. “To keep _you_ warm, I’m not sure this is enough.”

Alex stuck his tongue out, before doubling over and clutching his stomach. “Fuck,” he managed.

John was alarmed, unsure of what to do. He wasn’t a doctor. Hell, he could barely get making mac-n-cheese right.

“Hang on,” he told Alex. “Laf will be home soon, and he’ll know what to do. Hopefully.”

“Thanks,” Alex muttered. “I feel so much better already.”

He winced again right as the door opened.

“ _Mon Dieu_ , John, you were supposed to be taking care of him, not killing him,” Laf scolded as he entered the apartment.

“What did you expect?” John asked. “I’m an artist, not a doctor. If you can do better, Mr. French Model, then fix him.”

Laf rolled his eyes, left the room, and came back with two pills of Advil and a glass of water. “I might not have a degree in medicine, _petit chienne_ , but I have common sense,” he said.

John flipped him off.

An hour later, Alex was doing considerably better. The food poisoning didn’t seem too serious, although he still could barely make it to the bathroom and back.

Herc had arrived ten minutes after Laf, with a bag of Alex’s stuff. John assisted him in setting up the spare bedroom with new sheets and pillows, as Laf reluctantly moved some dog things he’d stored in the room. Then he and Herc went to the kitchen to find some food while John helped Alex (who was now wearing the turtle pajamas again) unpack.

Soon Alex, pale and shivering, admitted that he needed to rest. John moved to leave the room, but a buzz from Alex’s phone made him stop.

“Hey, Eliza texted back!” Alex said, smiling. “She invited me to hang out at the flower shop tomorrow.”

“You won’t survive the walk,” John told him. “You’re practically dead right now.”

Alex scowled and typed something on his phone. A moment later: “Okay, Sunday.”

“They’re not closed?”

“They are. We’re going to a coffee shop instead.”

He looked so cute, in bed with blankets piled on top of him, that John almost forgot to be mad.

“Have fun,” he said, leaving the room.

He found Herc and Laf in the kitchen, eating cold cereal.

“So,” Herc said as John entered. “You and Alex. What’s holding you guys back?”

“What?”

“Dude, it’s obvious that you’re obsessed with him. And his body language isn’t exactly subtle—”

Laf kicked him. “Leave him alone.”

John took a deep breath to steady himself So they did know. How long would it be until they told Alex? He didn’t want Herc to try to set them up. That could only end badly.

“It’s not like that,” John said. “Anyway, there’s this girl he met yesterday—Eliza Schuyler—that he’s seeing on Sunday.”

Herc looked struck.

“It’s the truth,” John said, a little too angrily.

“No, no, _mon ami_.” Laf was laughing. “You lost him at ‘Schuyler.’”

“Shut up,” Herc snapped, face red.

“You see—”

“I swear to God, Laf—”

“—Last summer we went to George’s Fourth of July party, remember? The Schuyler sisters were there. There was that girl, the short one with the yellow dress.”

John vaguely recalled her. In retrospect, something about her seemed familiar. Then it clicked. “Peggy Schuyler!” So that was why she had looked familiar to him in the flower shop. “Oh my God,” John said, laughing. “I remember everything now. I locked her and Herc in the maintenance closet and she was totally cool with it—”

“She obviously enjoyed it,” Laf added, grinning.

“Enough for them to keep seeing each other?” John raised an eyebrow.

Laf nodded. “Every week. I only found out recently. I caught them making out—”

Herc groaned. “You’ve made your point. So what if we’re dating?”

John stood on his tiptoes to pat him on the head. “This is fucking great, Herc. Now we just need to set Laf up. How about Aaron Burr?”

Herc snorted and cracked up. Laf looked murderous.

Maybe it was all going to be okay. Maybe John was reading too much into Alex’s interest in Eliza. Maybe, just maybe, he had a chance after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhmm so honestly I’m not 100% sure how I feel about this chapter, but I didn’t have time to redo it so I’m gonna roll with it. At least there’ll be more opportunities for awkward lams situations now that Alex is living in the apartment *wiggles eyebrows*. Anyway, the next chapter is Serenity’s—and if you’re lucky it might feature a certain Schuyler sister :3


	9. Together?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex goes to a coffee shop with Eliza. What awkwardness could happen here?

__Alex put on his coat before opening the door of John’s--no, his apartment. John talked to him as he ate some lucky charms.  
  
“You sure you can make it? I don't want you throwing up in another flower pot.”

Alex sighed. “John, I'm fine.” He started slowly shutting the door. “Besides, it's not like it's a date.”

Alex started slowly walking to the coffee shop where Eliza was waiting for him. He didn't feel like he was going to puke, but he didn't feel normal either.

When he arrived, he saw Eliza waiting for him at a table. She smiled as he sat down.

“Hi Alex! Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, I am. How about you?”

“I'm good. Just warning you, Peggy may or may not of come along to get herself something.”

“Oh. That's fine!”

“She can be a handful.”

“Hey!” Alex and Eliza laughed as Peggy stormed over to them. “That's no way to thank me for getting you coffee!” Peggy set the coffee down in front of them and stormed off.

After laughing, Eliza was the first one to talk over the silence.

“So, how did you get here, to New York.”

“It's not a very happy story, but after my home was ravaged by a hurricane I wrote a paper on it. The people living in my town liked it, so they gathered enough money to send me to New York on a boat and have me attend college.”

“That's not sad!”

“The boat caught on fire.”

“Point taken.”

“Anyways, now the money's running out. I just had to move in with John, Laf, and Herc.”

“Who’s Laf and Herc?”

“Oh yeah! You haven't met them. Laf is short for Lafayette but his real name is Gilbert, so I don't know where Lafayette comes from. He came from France, and he's rich. He also has a dog named Chloe. Herc is short for Hercules-”

“Hercules _Mulligan_?”

“Yeah. How'd you know him?”

“He dates Peggy.”

Alex started laughing maniacally.

“We’re talking about the same Hercules, right? The buff Tailor who has a strange fetish with muscle milk?”

“That's the one!” Eliza started laughing too.

“So,” Eliza said once they stopped laughing, “we’re getting off track.”

“Yeah.”

“Uhh… how long have you been working at Washington's?”

“About a month and a half. How'd you know I worked there?”

“I figured you work with Herc.”

“You figured correctly.”

“Why worked?”

“What?”

“Why past tense?”

“Oh. I may have been fired along with John.”

“How?”

“Long story short, there was these two guys talking crap about Washington’s, so Laurens and I confronted them. While I verbally abused one, John punched the other.”

“How it get that far?”

“Huh.”

Alex and Eliza sat in silence.

“So,” Eliza said, “how long have you and John been together for?”

“ _Together_?” Alex looked struck.

“You know, dating?” Eliza waggled her eyebrows.

Alex started laughing awkwardly.

“We're not together.”

“ _What_?” Peggy’s high-pitched screech echoed through the entire coffee shop. Eliza and Alex turned their heads away from her as everyone else looked at her.

“We’re not in a relationship.”

Now Eliza looked awkward. “I'm sorry. I just assumed by the way you two looked at each other, that, you know.”

“You two looked in _love_.” Peggy whispered loudly.

_Does everyone know my feelings better than I do?_

Alex sighed. “Well, I'm not sure about him…”

_Shit. I just barely admitted it to myself and now I'm telling my feelings to someone so crazy that they date Herc?_

“Oh. My. God.” Peggy slapped the table once for each word. She looked at Eliza, who looked just as psyched as Peggy. “We have to set them up.”

“Wait.” Eliza said, and looked at Alex. “Is he gay or bisexual?”

“Gay.”

Peggy squealed, earning even more attention from the people around them.

“Tell me about your relationship with him. How did you meet him?”

Alex’s face turned red.

Peggy leaned in towards Alex and whispered into Alex’s ear. “Tell us!”

“Well, it's kind of embarrassing.”

Eliza and Peggy leaned in towards Alex and started chanting. “Tell us! Tell us! Tell us!”

“Okay, okay!” Alex raised his hands and surrendered to their chant, or the eyes watching them.

“We met in a bar. I was following Aaron Burr around when I ran into Herc, Laf, and John.”

“Wait,” Peggy said, “you know Herc?”

“He lives with him!” Eliza whispered loudly. “Now back to the story.”

“All three of them were _really_ drunk. After Laf and Herc got into an argument, John and I were alone. Then, he drew a picture of me on a napkin, and next thing I knew, he was kissing me.”

Peggy squealed, but stopped when she noticed the glares she was getting from the people around her.

“That's not all of it! I then found out he blacked out, and had forgotten the whole thing. That was not only the moment I met John, but the moment I started questioning my sexual orientation.”

Peggy and Eliza looked like they were about to pop.

“Okay. Now I'm done.”

“You two are in _love_!” Peggy squealed.

“You should just ask him out!” Eliza said.

“I know I should, I just don't know _how_.”

“Just suck it up and tell him!”

“No Peggy, he needs to find the right time.”

And just like that, Alex’s phone rang. It was none other than John.

“Eww!” Peggy said, “Is that an IPhone 3?”

Alex rolled his eyes.

“It's John.”

Eliza and Peggy squealed as he answered the call. In response to their squeals, his face turned beet red.

“Hey Alex, you gotta come back now!”

Alex covered the phone with his hand.

“Hey, I have to go.”

“Don't worry!” Eliza said. “We should too. See you soon?”

“Definitely.”

“Bye!”

“Bye!”

“Bye!”

Alex left the coffee shop and put the phone back on his ear.

“Sorry John, I just left the shop. What's up?”

“Laf’s on the Phone with Washington.”

“And?”

“He wants us to go meet him at Washington’s. Right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex admits to his feelings about John *Finally*. Now we can make this even more awkward!! (Evil laughs) Lizzie’s chapter will definitely have some fluff. Stay tuned!  
> -Serenity


	10. Patient My Ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Alex go to see George Washington... on a Sunday?

  
It had been almost a week since John had been to Washington’s. Although the white walls (splashed with _accidental_ splatters of color from his shirt-painting sessions) were the same as always, the place’s aura felt grim and suffocating. John, feet fidgeting around the legs of the hard wood chair Washington had pulled up for him, glanced over to Alex, sitting beside him. He followed his friend’s gaze out the shop window and into the sunny streets. A little kid passed on a scooter. Then a teenager, with a hot cup of coffee. John envied them.

Washington cleared his throat. John snapped to attention. A strangled noise halfway between a choke and a whimper slipped from between Alex’s teeth.

“I’m still highly disappointed in you both. You physically assaulted one of King’s top employees, and your own manager, effectively giving the enemy incentive to shut us down. But I wouldn’t have called you here on a Sunday just to tell you that.”

He paused. John’s heartbeat picked up.

He could _not_ lose this place. He couldn’t. When he’d first come to Manhattan, broke and disowned, it was his solace. Rationally, he knew there were other jobs in the world. But the pounding in his chest told him there was only one.

“Sir?” He heard Alex venture tentatively.

Washington sighed. “Last night George King bought the empty building on the corner of this block. His company is huge, commercial; with this competition, we’ll go out of business in no time. So, I’ll need all the employees I can get. You two are to return to work tomorrow morning, early. I’ve promoted Gilbert to manager, so do what he says. I trust him.”

The boss’s eyes bore into John’s, asking an unspoken question.

“Yessir,” John said, saluting. He couldn’t completely suppress the relieved laughter bubbling up from his chest like water from a geyser. “You can count on us, G. Wash.”

Washington scowled, though his eyes were twinkling. “If I see any more paint on the walls, you’re out again. Is that clear? Particularly the crimson—I can’t stand it.”

That stopped some of the relief. John’s mind switched from reveling in the joyful rush of not losing his job to wondering how the hell he was going to learn to be _careful with paint, fuck_.

“Sir.” John couldn’t believe this was only the second time Alex had spoken. Maybe he was purposefully holding himself back from spurting out words—he had been shifting his jaw throughout the whole meeting. “May I still maintain the books? We’re going to need them to be impeccable if we’re standing up to King.”

“I expect you to. Good luck, son. I’ll be back to check in with Gilbert at noon tomorrow.”

Alex looked struck as Washington got up and departed from his office.

“What the fuck, Alex,” John said. “This is good news. You know, maybe Burr’s right. Smile more. Although I’m not sure about the talk less part, it’s cute when you shoot off at the mouth about random shit like coffee or psychology or how good looking your friend John is—”

Alex choked. “What?”

“Checking to see if you were listening.”

“Um, okay. _Thanks_ , John.” He was back to staring at the door, right where Washington had stood a minute earlier. “He called me son.”

_Okay, so maybe I’m not the only one with daddy issues._

John grabbed Alex’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “C’mon, Ham. Let’s get moving.” He paused, mulling over what he meant to say next. “Don’t you have a date to finish?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure it isn’t.”

John knew his body language had become tense, despite his (admittedly poor) attempts at controlling himself. Alex stiffened up, too, reaching for the door. “See you at the apartment, John.”

He was left in the deserted office alone, frustration gnawing at his insides. John debated kicking a chair. He didn’t. With nothing to do, he put his coat on and headed back home.

 

“Laf, it’s five thirty,” John complained, rolling over in bed. “What are you, my mom?”

“Get up, _mon ami_. George said to come early.”

John glared daggers at Laf. The frenchman just raised an eyebrow. “Maybe it’s good that you don’t want to leave now. I really don’t have the time to walk Chloé this morning—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” John struggled to his feet, throwing the closest hoodie he could find over his head. “Did you wake up Alex?”

Laf gave him an innocent look. “I thought it best to let him sleep a few more minutes.”

John flipped him off.

In the hallway he nearly bumped into Alex, who was already fully dressed and awake. “Hey, John. Did Laf wake you up?”

“How’d you know,” John muttered. “I swear, one day I’m gonna take that favorite dog toy of his and shove it up his—”

“John!” he heard from the next room. “Quit trampling around, will you. I’m trying to fucking sleep.”

“Fuck off, Mulligan,” John called back. Herc’s scowl echoed through the walls. “Anyway.” He turned to Alex. “How’d you get up?”

Alex shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Also, anything to avoid Laf coming into my room to wake me up.”

“Shoulda set an alarm,” John mumbled.

Nudging him, Alex pointed out, “I don’t think even an alarm could wake you up.”

Shoving him, John stumbled to the bathroom to get ready for the work day. Within twenty minutes he and Alex were on the street, headed to Washington’s.

“You know, it’s still only six,” Alex said.

“Yeah? I’m gonna fucking kill Laf when we get back.” They turned a corner. Up ahead came the rainbow banner of Eliza’s flower shop. John narrowed his eyes at the sign, Ross & Claypoole Flowers, distrustfully keeping his distance from the door as they neared.

“Hey!” Alex said. John turned to see a girl, maybe a little younger than them, rush away in the direction opposite of the flower shop. Her dark, curly hair swung in the breeze as she held the end of her red dress down.

“What happened?” John asked.

“She bumped into me,” Alex grumbled. He looked to the shop again. “John, we have nothing to do for half an hour. Let’s go in.” John looked at Alex. His eyes were hopeful.

“There’s no way they’re open,” John argued, right as he spotted the _Open_ sign in the window.

“Turns out the only person crazier than you is Angelica Schuyler, so they open at five thirty on weekdays.”

John bit back a comment about how Alex seemed to have the shop’s schedule memorized and instead focused on restraining himself from angrily marching in and causing a disaster. He finally relented, figuring he could check out the scene. Maybe discover that Eliza had a boyfriend or something. Maybe.

Unfortunately, a disaster did happen, although surprisingly he was on the receiving end. The exact second he hit the steps, the door flew open in his face, knocking him down onto the pavement. His jaw burned; everything spun as he reeled and fought to gain the balance to rise. John was dimly aware of Alex’s arm wrapping around his waist to support him as he struggled to his feet. Slowly his vision stopped dancing and became semi-normal. Peggy Schuyler was standing on the steps, wearing a yellow off-the-shoulders shirt that burned his eyes and an only slightly apologetic expression.

“Whoops,” she said, smirking.

“Get your sisters, Peggy,” Alex ordered. “Now.”

Peggy scowled and returned indoors, returning with Eliza and another woman behind her. The new girl had dark skin and a searing gaze that promised to see the absolute worst in everyone. Angelica, who John was assuming she was, wore a soft pink overcoat that hurt his eyes considerably less than Peggy’s outfit.

In fact, John already liked her much better than Eliza, who was standing beside her sisters, sky blue skirt stunning, hair effortlessly glossy. Even for him, it wasn’t hard to see why Alex would be captivated by her. She _glowed_.

“I apologize for my sister,” Angelica said. Her voice was just as sharp as her stare. “She’s a little shit.”

John, through the pain, cracked up at Peggy’s expression of mock shock.

“Oh no. I feel so hurt.”

Angelica aimed her scorching glare at Peggy, and even from where he was standing, John could see the cold distaste in her gaze. Man, she was skilled.

“Eliza, get Margarita and her god-awful neon shirt away from me while I fix the damage she’s done.” She turned to John. “John Laurens, right? Come in. We’ve probably got an ice pack or two and I know we have painkiller from all the times Peggy’s caused utter pandemonium in here.”

“You know you enjoy it!” Peggy shouted from behind as John and Alex entered the shop. “And never fucking call me Margarita, Ang—Angeli—shit, I can't come up with anything. You’re lucky you have a long name.”

“You're lucky I'm patient,” Angelica responded.

“Patient my ass.”

Okay, maybe John was going to like this place more than he’d originally thought.

Angelica lead them past the rainbow wallpaper, past the assorted flowers and vases and hanging planters, past the antique wooden counter and into the back storeroom. She dug out a few pills and an ice pack from a large sack labeled _Peggy_ amidst the racks of more flowers and bags of soil. Handing them to John along with a glass of water she’d filled, she pursed her lips and turned to face Alex.

“I appreciate you helping your friend, but Eliza might need some aid in controlling our demon sister. I can take it from here.”

Alex visibly hesitated, eyes moving between John and Angelica. “Okay?”

John felt like arguing, but from the look in the oldest Schuyler sister’s eyes he could tell she wanted something and he badly needed to know what it was.

He nodded an _I’ll be fine_ nod to Alex and tried to look like his entire body wasn't hurting as his friend left the room.

He was becoming more and more curious about whatever Angelica wanted to say. But maybe he already knew.

“This is about Eliza, right?”

Her eyes narrowed. John glared right back.

“My sister. And your friend, Alex. More specifically, the two of them together.”

John shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, though everything in him was straining to hear what Angelica thought about Alex’s relationship with Eliza. “I’ve never seen them _together_ together. But he obviously likes her a lot.”

“So he _is_ after her?”

John put his hands up. “What? No. I'm not not sure. I wouldn't put it like that. If they're a thing, the feeling’s mutual.”

“Well, if they're together, I don't like it. But I will support my sister. Will you do the same for Alexander?”

“Angelica, this isn't FAQ time—”

“Will you? Because it's obvious to me you're head over heels for him.”

The glaring persisted. After equal effort on both parts (maybe even a little more on John’s after that last comment), he sighed and asked, “What is this really about?”

Angelica’s eyes softened just the tiniest bit. “I know Alex is a good guy. I just worry. If he tells you anything concerning Eliza, please let me know.”

“Angelica, customers!” came Peggy’s voice from the next room.

“Well, back to work for the both of us,” Angelica said. “Thanks for the talk, John. And sorry again about Peggy.”

“It's fine,” John said, grinning. “Now I can tell Herc _all_ about it.”

“You going to your boss’s Christmas party next month?”

“Fuck yeah. Martha Washington always makes the _best_ cookies.”

“Well.” Angelica’s smile was sly. “Maybe it's my turn to push you and Alex into the maintenance closet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, everyone! Please stayed tuned for more Peggy shenanigans~
> 
> -Lizzie


	11. Made up George King's Ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex has a chat with Eliza and Peggy in the flower shop, then he and John go back to work.

After John had nodded, Alex left to help Eliza and Peggy.

As he walked into the room Peggy’s trail of destruction led to, he found both Peggy and Eliza smiling hugely.

“So,” Eliza asked, “have you told him?”

Alex raked a hand through his hair. “Uhh…”

“Come on!” Peggy groaned.

“I just haven't found the right time! It's hard to confess your love-”

“Oh. My. God.” Eliza and Peggy screamed. “You just said you _loved_ him!”

Alex’s face got red.

“Shh! He's in the room next door!”

Eliza and Peggy stopped screeching.

“As I was saying, it's hard to confess your love to your best friend when you just finished throwing up your guts.”

Peggy mumbled something under her breath after Alex finished.

“What?” Alex asked.

“Well, it won't be hard now because Angelica is doing it for you.”

“She _what_?” Alex’s face turned red and felt like it was on fire.

“Yeah.” Eliza responded. “When she drove us home, we passed by you and we told her who you were. She asked us if you were together with someone and we said you had your eyes on a ‘certain someone’ and we told her to talk to John.”

Alex didn't know what to say, so he responded with one word.

“Shit.”

Then John entered into the room with Angelica.

“Hey Alex, you ready to go?”

“Y-yes.” Alex stuttered, face turning even more red.

John turned around and waved at the three sisters.

“Bye!”

“Bye!”

“Bye!”

“Bye!”

“G-goodnight?”

John and Alex left the rainbow-colored store as John started laughing.

“Goodnight? Alex, it's 6:30!”

“Oh.”

John looked worriedly at Alex. Alex tried to hide his blush, but he only managed to blush more.

“Alex, are you alright? You look worse than me, and I got my head smashed in by a door opened by none other than Hercules Mulligan's girlfriend.”

“I'm fine. Don't worry about it.”

And that was the last thing that was said between them until they reached Washington’s. When John opened the door, they were dragged inside the store.

“What the hell are you doing Laf?” John yelled.

“Shh!” Laf was looking outside, and he was pointing at George King’s new store. At first, Alex didn't see anything, but then he saw it. A black beanie peaking just over the cardboard boxes.

_Hercules Mulligan?_

“What's he doing?” John asked, nose pressed against the window.

“Scoping out the competition.”

John, Alex, and Laf laughed maniacally.

They watched Herc go through multiple boxes. At one point, he saw all three of them looking at him, so he flipped them off. John, Laf, and Alex returned the favor.

After ten minutes, they heard the door open.

“What are you three doing?”

John just pointed at the store. It took Washington a minute to see what was going on.

“If anyone asks, I wasn't a part of this.” He said as he walked to his office.

After a while, the trio started getting everything together to open the shop

Laf was trying on merchandise, John was sleeping, and Alex was watching John sleep when Herc burst through the front door. He practically carried everyone into washington’s office and locked the door.

“Shit. Just. Happened.”

“Hercules.”

“Sorry Wash.”

“What happened, _mon ami_?”

“You didn't get caught, did you?”

“No man, nobody can catch Hercules Mulligan.”

“Hercules,” Washington said, “tell us what you saw.”

“Well,” Herc said, “I noticed three things. The first thing is that they make clothes. _Fast_. The second thing I noticed was that I checked every article of clothing, and guess what I saw on every tag?”

“Made up George King’s ass?” John said, earning a few snickers from around the room, and a glare from Washington.

“Charles Lee.”

“Backstabbing asshole.” Alex said.

“And what's the last thing?” George asked.

“Every single article of clothing in the store is a knockoff of ours.”

Everyone went silent. John sighed.

“So, what does this mean?”

“It means we have to fight back!” Alex said, stars in his eyes.

George coughed, and everyone looked at him.

“What should we do, sir?” Herc asked.

George thought for a moment, then spoke.

“We start from scratch.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was kinda short! I really hope you continue waiting for Lizzie’s chapter!  
> -Serenity


	12. He's just non-stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The employees of Washington's decide to up their game. Aaron Burr makes an entrance.

“Hercules, _mon ami_! How are the shirts going?”

Herc came around the corner, arms wrapped in a bear hug around a huge pile of crisp, white shirts, skirts, socks and other articles of clothing. “Yeah,” he said, voice muffled by a stray hoodie. “It's John’s turn now. I need to finish knitting the new line of beanies.”

“Aye aye, captain.” John passed the finished shirts he’d just decorated to Laf as Herc dumped the fresh ones on the painting table.

Alex stopped at John’s table, eyes flashing proudly. “They look great!”

John watched as Alex looked him up and down, fully aware that he had paint, fabric marker and flakes of eraser scattered across his clothing. “Of course they do. Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Alex laughed and moved on. John realized he was grinning like a dumbass as he continued to paint.

The pace since Washington had instructed a complete remodel and restocking of the laundromat had been frantic. All the employees were doing their part in the fight against King, which was good, because there was a _lot_ of work to be done.

_Crash!_

John ducked instinctively, dropping his paintbrush and covering his ears. His heart pounded in his chest as he peeked up over the desk.

“Uh, sorry,” Herc said, hovering guiltily over an overturned washing machine. “It was heavier than expected.”

John glanced over to Washington’s office to see that the door hadn’t budged. Whatever the boss was doing in there, it was keeping him busy.

Alex hadn’t reacted, either. He was still seated behind the main counter, eyes fixed downward as his pen moved across a sheet of paper at lightning speed.

Lafayette whacked Herc over the head with a shirt. “Be more careful. By the way, these shirts miraculously fit well. Even more surprising than that is the fact that they look nice.”

“Hey!” John and Herc protested at the same time.

The ghost of a smile appeared on Laf’s face. “It’s true. Don’t get defensive.”

Alex still didn’t look up.

John checked the clock on the wall. “Hey, it’s our lunch break! I know we have a lot to do, but we should at least eat.”

“Okay,” Herc agreed, righting the washing machine.

“Alex?”

“Mm?” He didn't even look up.

“We’re going to get lunch. You coming?”

Alex briefly glanced upward, not making eye contact with John. “I think I'll stay here. These books are really disorganized.”

Laf quirked an eyebrow. “How could they be disorganized? You’ve been maintaining them for weeks.”

“It doesn't matter. They can always be better.” Alex made a frustrated noise and returned to writing furiously.

“Go without him,” came a voice from the doorway of Washington’s. “Hamilton’s a lost cause. I don't think he’s currently capable of spending thirty seconds away from work.”

John looked up to see Aaron Burr, in a freshly laundered suit.

“Get out,” Laf commanded, tone cold. “We’re busy.”

“So you don't want to hear what I know about George King?”

John jumped in. “I thought the prestigious Aaron Burr doesn't take sides.”

“How do you even know about the conflict with King?” Herc asked.

Burr looked genuinely frustrated—John had to give him that.

“I'm only getting involved because I know King won't stop after shutting down Washington’s. A group of us from law school have been researching him. His brand name has a background of illegal drug trade, gambling and backstabbing. The reason he hates your boss so much is because Washington turned some of his own employees against him back when they worked together—don't look so surprised,” Burr said. “Washington isn't exactly a saint.”

“But he left when he figured out what was happening,” John argued.

“Fair enough. That's irrelevant, though.”

“Yes?” Laf said, still sounding irritated. “Then what do you suggest, _tout savoir_?”

Burr didn't seem affected. “A makeover of this place won't solve anything, although it's a good step to take right now. What you need to do is infiltrate King’s place and get more information on him. I'm sure there's something illegal that you can use to your advantage.”

Surprisingly, that idea sounded almost… good. John glanced over to Alex. Still scrawling away.

Herc smiled grimly and cracked his knuckles. For once John didn't tease him on his I’m-so-badass presentation. “I've got the spying covered. King won't know what hit him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, sorry for being a week late. I've been really busy with the start of high school, but hopefully now I have my homework under control. Thanks for understanding, everyone, and I hope you enjoyed this (admitted really short) chapter!
> 
> -Lizzie


	13. LOOK AT ME!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plotting against king, checking out John, you know, the usual

“What the hell, Laurens?” Alex screeched as he put a slash of green paint on his previously all-white tee shirt.

“What?” Laurens responded jokingly, “The white makes you look bland and sleep deprived. Now you look colorful and… uh… less sleep deprived.”

Alex exhaled loudly as he looked back at the different papers Aaron had left with him.

King was a drug lord- but that was just the start of it. He had also been accused of murder. Multiple times. His large net worth had always gotten him out of trouble at the last moment though. Alex wanted to believe they could pull this off, but he knew there was only a slim chance of their plan working. They just needed to make every move as intelligently as possible.

It was hard to do it though, especially with John distracting him every other minute.

He was currently painting on a shirt—no, five shirts.

_What is he doing?_

Alex used all of his strength to take his eyes off John as soon as he looked up at him. John quickly gave Alex a “Look again and I’ll kill you” stare, then went back down to his work.

To keep his mind off John, Alex looked at King’s store through the windows. Hercules had dressed up as a normal citizen, and was attempting to get a part-time job. Alex couldn’t see Herc, but he hoped that he would be convincing enough.

Alex was broken off from his thoughts by a familiar voice.

“ _MES AMIES_ , LOOK AT ME!”

Alex turned his head to find Lafayette wearing a purple tuxedo. His hair had been let down, and it went everywhere. He looked familiar, but he was missing something. Maybe a new york accent?

“Did Herc make that?” John asked.

“Yup.”

Alex glanced over at the door when he heard it open. He was expecting to find Hercules, but it was his girlfriend and her sisters instead.

“LAFAYETTE WHERE DID YOU GET THAT AND DOES IT COME IN YELLOW?”

  
“Herc made it and ask him.”

Angelica scoffed at her younger sister and walked over to Alex.

“We heard you have a bone to pick with George King.”

“Yeah?” John asked.

Eliza jumped in front of her sister. “We’re here to help!!”

“Wait, we’re grateful that you want to help, but why?” Alex asked.

Peggy’s face went dark. “He’s killed many people, and an abundance of them seem to be our friends.”

“Well,” Laf said, trying to change the subject, “How do you want to help?”

“Our father is willing to donate money to your cause. We’re also here to help make stuff.” Eliza said.

“We may not be the best, but we’re better than nothing!”

“That’s good, considering Herc’s getting a job at King’s.” John said.

Peggy’s face turned red.

“Evil, backstabbing-”

“To spy on them.”

“Oh.”

John and Lafayette started showing Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy around the store as Alex went back to researching George King and not so subtly checking out John.

_Out of all people why did it have to be John?_

About an hour later, Angelica and Eliza were quietly chatting as they knitted some scarfs, and Peggy was modeling clothes with Laf. John was asleep at his desk, and Alex was daydreaming while looking at John’s endless curls.

Alex broke from his trance as he heard loud footsteps coming towards him. John woke up and looked at the door in a daze. Alex heard the door slam open and shut, and saw Herc breathing hard.

“What happened, mon ami?” Lafayette questioned.

“I got the job.” He said, smirk present on his face.

“Did you learn anything?” John asked, still half asleep.

“Other than they’re running an illegal drug deal in the back of that shop practically twenty four seven, nope.”

“Wait what?” Peggy yelled.

“When did you get here?” Herc asked.

“Doesn’t matter at the moment. Do you have any ideas on how to stop them?”

“Can’t we just call the police?” Angelica said. “It’s not like what they are doing is legal.”

“We should be able to, but there’s a problem,” Herc said, looking at the floor.

“What?”

“It’s the police that’s buying it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's crap. Please forgive me and wait for Lizzie's not crappy chapter. Also, don't forget to check out our one shot!
> 
> -Serenity


	14. Despite the odds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burr is hardcore rejected, Herc can't speak French, and a very cool someone makes an appearance.

“The police are the ones buying it.”

 

John watched Alex’s facial expression shift from defiant, to scared, and then at last to furious. Without planning it, they both shot to their feet at the exact same moment.

 

“That can’t be,” Alex told Herc. “The police are supposed to operate under the law. They would never support a dealer like King.”

 

Herc smiled grimly. “It’s not all of them, just a small ring of supporters who all have something in common—they’re all from England.”

 

“Hey, I never liked that country,” John butted in. “Not since I learned about the Revolutionary War in middle school, anyway.”

 

“I don’t understand why that war was fought,” Burr said, shaking his head as walked in. John was happy to see he was holding a crate of chips and other snacks (was that a bottle of muscle milk in there?). “But I do admire how the Americans won despite the odds.”

 

“A lot of great patriots were able to rise up through the Revolution,” Alex reminded him. “Why are you back, Aaron?”

 

“Yes, why are you back, Burr?” Lafayette asked, arms crossed.

 

Burr scowled, dumping the contents of the crate all over the table. “I literally just left for ten minutes to buy the snacks that he”—Burr pointed to John, “—demanded for apparently disrupting your remodel.”

 

Lafayette grabbed a bag of Doritos, and Herc went for the SunChips and (predictably) the muscle milk.

 

John shrugged and snatched a bag of Lays. “Dude’s gotta pay.”

 

He felt his stomach twist happily when Alex laughed, despite the grim situation. 

 

“Be serious, John, we’re trying to sue the British,” Laf said.

 

“I bet if they were French you’d let it slip,” remarked Herc, pretty loudly.

 

“Geniuses!” Burr cut in. “Lower your voices. We’re not going to sue them. You keep out of trouble and you double your choices.”

 

“Since when has this been ‘we’?” Alex suddenly asked. John listened with interest. It was the first time he’d spoken in several minutes.

 

“Logically, if we all work together, we have more power to shut down King’s establishment—“

 

“Actually, I’m wondering why you came to us instead of the other interns at your firm,” Alex continued. “We were doing fine on our own, Burr. If we stick to our original plan—Herc exposing King’s business from the inside—we should have enough hard evidence to take this to the authorities. And I’m not buying your story about the cops until you can back up your claims.”

 

John jumped in front of Alex as Burr took a step forward, electricity practically cracking in the space between the two law students. He felt like he was watching one of those TV dramas about lawyers, and he did  _ not _ like it.

 

“Go the fuck home, Burr.” John crossed his arms.

 

Burr just rolled his eyes. “You guys believed me a few minutes ago. Come on, you can’t seriously switch your perspective so suddenly—“

 

“Get your head out of your ass, Burr,” Lafayette said coldly. Herc raised his hand for a high five, but the Frenchman ignored him.

 

A sigh echoed through the room. “Be careful, Alex. Soon that attitude will be your doom. And, for the record, I wasn’t lying.”

 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” John called after him. He relaxed his posture, though, letting his arms swing loose.

 

One hand accidentally brushed past Alex’s. John tensed up, electricity shooting through his fingers. But instead of doing the obvious—shooing John’s hand away—Alex entwined their fingers in one decisive moment and raised their fists high.

 

“To the revolution!” Alex said, laughing. John shoved his shoulders playfully, grinning like an idiot. Somewhere behind them, he heard Lafayette snort.

 

“You two are not nearly as clever as you like to think.”

 

“Yeah, history nerds,” Herc added, laughing.

 

Alex, as usual, defended himself. “Well, King is British, and we’re Americans living in New York City, so you’ve got to admit that there are some parallels—“

 

“So, how’s this gonna work?” Herc cut in, bringing them all back to reality. “Washington is our meeting with his business friends about King, so we’re alone for today. And my new job starts tomorrow.”

 

“If you abandon us I will never forgive you,” Lafayette interrupted.

 

“Yeah, Herc. We need you and your muscle milk fetish.” John pretend-pouted. “Or maybe not. Maybe we could be a trio and make references to American history and start speaking French at work—like,  _ non, nous n’avons pas parlons anglais _ —and invite Burr to work here instead of you.”

 

“How do you say ‘fuck off’ in French, Laf?” Herc asked crossly.

 

“ _ Je veux te baiser, John _ _ , _ ” Laf said with a straight face.

 

“Je veux te baiser, John,” Herc repeated, with a terrible accent.

 

Laf, Alex and John all cracked up. John managed to give the Frenchman a high five before he fell to the ground, cackling.

 

“Don’t ever—don’t ever trust Laf,” John gasped, tears in his eyes. He clutched his stomach, doubling over with a fresh fit of laughter.

 

“What the fuck did you make me say, du Motier?”

 

“You told John you wanted to fuck him,” Alex responded for Laf. He was giggling, but handling the laughter a lot better than John.

 

John stuck his tongue out, still on the ground. “Traitor.” He grabbed for Alex’s leg, pulling him down onto the ground as well. The two wrestled while Herc watched judgmentally and Laf occasionally threw in a kick at John’s side.

 

Finally, John had Alex pinned.

 

“What the fuck, John,” his friend managed, albeit with a smile.

 

“Get up, both of you. This is serious,” Lafayette reprimanded. He put his hands on his hips. “Hercules is going to risk his well-being by working for King and we need to be ready to support him. Go move that rack over to the back wall—and shred those papers Burr brought,  _ merci _ .”

 

John sighed, released Alex (reluctantly), and stood up. “Chloe broke the shredder last week. Herc might be a good shredder though. Might as well make him useful while he’s still here.”

 

“Laurens, I swear to  _ fucking  _ god...” Herc warned. 

 

“Okay, okay, I’ll just put them in the blender or something—”

 

“Don’t!” The door burst open, jingling the entrance bell violently. John turned, startled by the sudden noise. In the shop—and dragging in a flushed Aaron Burr by the wrist—was a woman with dark, tightly curled hair pulled back with an indigo ribbon. She was definitely a few years older than John, and was wearing ripped blue jeans and a black tank top. The woman smiled grimly. “Hey, guys. It’s been a while. But, to cut to the chase, Aaron here was telling the truth—and I have proof.”

 

John blinked. “Theo?”

 

“John.” Theodosia smiled for real, although she still looked stressed. “We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry it's been so long. Starting high school has been an absolute nightmare in terms of homework--but I hope now that I'm back on my feet, uploads will happen regularly again. Huge thanks to all of you who didn't give up on us! And stay tuned for some more excitement next chapter~
> 
> -Lizzie


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo barges into Washington's. What could she want?

Alex looked from John, to Theodosia, then back to John.

_Who is she? How does she know John? How does she know about our problems with King?_

John must've connected the dots from Alex’s confused stare, because he quickly informed him that she used to be a coworker of his before Alex was hired.

Theo smiled at Alex, in which he smiled back, determining her a friend.

Then John looked at Aaron.

“How do you know her?”

Aaron and Theo’s faces grew red as they were met with four very judgmental ones.

“We’re, uh, dating?”

Hercules, being the blunt one, pointed to the ring on her finger.

“What's that then?”

As their faces grew redder, Alex couldn't help but snicker.

“My engagement ring.”

“You two are engaged, then?”

Their faces became as red as they could possibly, as Alex realised what was going on.

“Burr, you sly-”

“WELL LET'S CHANGE THE SUBJECT.”

“Well,” Laf said, “how can you prove he's right?”

“My husband- well, not yet at least- works closely with king. When I found out that they were trying to put you out of business, I scoured through every drawer in our apartment. After a long time, I finally found this!”

Theo handed Alex a couple sheets of paper. On them were the transactions of illegal deals made, and where the money was used.

Everyone but Theo gathered around Alex to read the paper.

“So that's how they afford their fabric.” The previously silent Peggy said.

“Wait!” Hercules said, snatching all the papers. He looked through all of them, and looked up. “These are all from this week! I saw papers like this at King’s. This is the only fabric they could afford! They are using all their profits on fabric, and make barely any by selling their actual clothing. If we could expose them, they would completely go out of business.”

“But what about the police?” Laf asked. “They're still the ones buying the stuff.”

Eliza, Peggy, and Angelica shared a look. “We can handle it.”

Then everyone turned to Washington who just happened to walk in the door at that very moment.

“Sir, what do you think?”

After everyone went over the data with him, and a lot of mental debate, G Wash spoke. “We have nothing to lose at this point. I'll schedule a meeting in court.”

 

Things went back to normal. Well, sort of.

Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy went back to their father to ask him to “politely ask” the police officers to stop spending their money at Kings.

Hercules went to Kings to politely quit from his job.

Washington retreated to his office to call a friend to help prosecute king.

Burr and Theo went back to their own jobs.

Lafayette went back to wearing the merchandise.

Laurens went back to painting shirts.

And Alex went back to sorting out the financial binders, and stealing glances at Laurens.

Hopefully this would all sort out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh, well this is on time, but it's also short. We're getting along with the plot- YAY!- and hopefully we'll have an ending soon!   
> Hope u enjoy, and keep a lookout for Lizzie's chapter!
> 
> -Serenity


	16. Boy, you got me helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the threat of King's business looming on the horizon, the Alex and John settle down for the time being... and John does something he shouldn't.

It had been an uneventful two days since the discovery of King’s illegal transactions, marked with a surprisingly easy return to the usual daily routine: work, eat, piss Herc off, throw things at Chloé, stare at Alex, repeat. In fact, he had spent so much time looking at his friend—no, who was he kidding, _checking him out_ —that he could now draw him almost flawlessly in his sketchbook. He had memorized the shape of his chocolate eyes, the curve of his nose, every eyelash—

 

—okay, maybe he needed to tone it down a bit.

 

But as he made his routine glances over to Alex while sitting on their apartment’s couch, lazily sketching his profile, he didn’t feel like toning it down. Herc and Laf were out at a local club with the Schuyler sisters (Herc had justified this by saying it was a place that King’s employees visited often, but John knew it was really an excuse to see Peggy), and John was thrilled at the chance to be alone with Alex.

 

“Hey, you know how we were gonna go see that movie next week?” Alex asked out of nowhere.

 

John couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah?”

 

“Would you mind if we went a few hours later? Eliza asked if we could meet up for coffee at noon.”

 

“Oh.” A strange feeling settled into the pit of his stomach, like jealousy mingled with disappointment and the cold sting of self doubt. Was he not good enough?

 

It didn’t matter, really. He and Alex weren’t dating. But…

 

“Yeah, that’s good with me. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

 

Alex smiled teasingly. “That doesn’t mean much.”

 

John stuck out his tongue and kicked him from his place on the couch, hiding his sketchbook as Alex got up.

 

“I should get ready for bed.” He yawned. “I have tons of work to do tomorrow.”

 

“Or you could just… not do it,” John called down the hall after him.

 

When Alex was out of sight, John sighed and tossed his sketchbook onto the couch cushions. He couldn’t keep doing this… he had to tell Alex. But when…? And would he be able to handle rejection? All his life he’d been dealing with it, and despite the confident facade he worked so hard to put up, John knew he got attached quickly and brokenhearted easily.

 

He reached up to thread his fingers through Chloe’s soft fur. The corgi was curled up in a ball on the edge of the couch. As much as John pretended to hate her (mostly to piss Laf off), she really was adorable, and interactions with her weren’t _confusing_ and _annoying_ like with people.

 

Speaking of people… John couldn’t contain himself any longer. He _had_ to know if Alex was interested in Eliza that way. She was pretty, polite (John gagged), kind, smart… the girl had everything going for her. What did John have? An impractical love of the arts, a tendency to get drunk and kiss strangers, ten billion freckles, and several sketchbooks full of secret drawings.

 

To be honest, _John_ would choose Eliza over himself.

 

He eyed Alex’s phone, which his friend had trustingly left behind. He couldn’t possibly… but it was the only way to know for sure.

 

John reached for the phone, pressing down on the home button. Okay, a password. He had expected that.

 

He tried Laf’s birthday, then Herc’s, knowing Alex wouldn’t have them as his password but unsure what else to try. He put in Burr’s as a joke. Nope. Alex’s own birthday. Also a no. Then he tried numbers like 0000 and 1234 and 2468.

 

Okay, what if it was his own birthday? 1028. The idea was almost laughable, and he didn’t expect it to work, but—

 

The phone unlocked, revealing the home screen.

 

John blinked back his confusion and tapped messages. Maybe it was a coincidence and that was also Alex’s mom’s birthday or something. Anyway, he could think about it later.

 

Eliza’s texts were at the very top. John pressed her name and scrolled up, past all the messages from today. After five or ten seconds of scrolling, something caught his eye.

 

**Elizaaaaa**

 

-three days ago-

 

ES: When are you going to let me tell everyone?

 

AH: everything would get really weird so never

 

ES: I’m sure they’d all be happy to hear :)

 

AH: john might stop talking to me

 

ES: I honestly think he’d be thrilled.

 

John continued to scroll up. His heart was pounding in his chest and his senses were on hyper-alert as he kept searching.

 

-five days ago-

 

ES: Alex, have you ever even dated before?

 

AH: ofc liza, who do you think i am lol

 

AH: it’s true I haven’t dated since i started college tho

 

ES: You don’t have to be single.

 

AH: …

 

ES: :)

 

AH: thanks eliza u made me choke in class

 

-six days ago-

 

AH: help me herc is trying to tailor me a suit

 

ES: Why is that a problem?

 

AH: its red… least favorite color. plus idk why i’d need one

 

ES: To be presentable?

 

AH: lol

 

ES: It’s not funny. You’d look great in a suit, Alex.

 

AH: john would make fun of me. peggy too

 

ES: Loosen up Ham. You’ll have fun!

 

John couldn’t help himself. He rolled his eyes at Eliza’s formal texting. _She uses proper punctuation and capitalization. This is the 21st century—who does that?_

 

One more time he flicked the screen downward, going farther back.

 

-a week ago-

 

AH: (insert smiley face because archive WONT LET ME FUCKING PUT ONE)

 

ES: I never thought I'd see the great Alexander Hamilton texting kissy face emojis!

AH: when I think of a certain someone that's all I wanna send tbh ;)

ES: I don't know why you won't let me tell my sisters.

AH: eliza theyre evil

ES: Fine. Just for you.

John made to scroll up to the comment that had provoked the kissy face emoji, but stopped at the sound of footsteps. Heart wrenching, he hit the home button and quickly powered off the phone, dropping it back where Alex had left it.

There was no longer any doubt.

It was okay, John told himself. Alex would be happy with Eliza. After all, she was a lot nicer than he was. He knew he'd never had a chance, but that didn’t prevent his heart from tearing as he looked up at his friend’s unsuspecting smile.

John endured the rest of the day with a grin plastered on his face. Inside he was crumbling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHERE TO BEGIN OML.
> 
> So, uh... school is crazy af and since I'm a huge procrastinator and basically had to write my history outline and essay in a day instead of the month i had... so i kind of forgot all about this. but, uh, im back!! sorry to serenity for the wait, but im gonna do lots of writing over thanksgiving break so its all good.
> 
> Thanks for being patient with us (but its really just me rip)  
> -Lizzie
> 
> P.S. fun fact, my birthday is also 10/28 B) yep, laurens is my bday buddy. and... as of this past october im officially...!! surprise! still a small child.


	17. It’s winter break baby!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s finals.

Alex slowly opened his eyes and winced from the sunlight intruding his room. He glanced at his clock, which screamed at him to get out of bed.

After not-so-gracefully smacking it, Alex rolled onto the floor, and proceeded to get up. He put on his black shirt (the same one from his first day at Washington’s) which now had a big splatter of green paint on it, from when he had a paint war with John.

When Alex made his way into the kitchen of the apartment, he was immediately met with the smell of Hercules’ cooking.

Hercules was making bacon, eggs and pancakes, and talking to Laurens.

“Man, that can’t be true. He’s clearly got something for-“

He stopped as soon as Alex walked in.

“Hey Alex. Want some pancakes?”

“Is there even a question about that?”

Then, Alex looked at John. He looked… sad? No, more like heartbroken. He was leaning over the table, arms sprawled out, with his head just barely being lifted up to talk to Herc. When he saw Alex making eye contact with him, his head went flat against the table.

“John…” Alex asked “You okay?”

A muffled yeah escaped and Alex didn’t believe him. However, there wasn’t enough time to worry over it. Finals were coming up, and Alex knew he had to ace them. And, to add up on that, he also had to work at Washington’s too.

At work, Alex still noticed John’s sad mood and tried to cheer him up. However, his paint war ended up being just between Laf, Herc, and himself. John just watched and laughed whenever someone was whacked in the face.

John looked truly broken. The look in his eyes that Alex associated with a mix of mischief and determination was gone.

To make matters worse, John even cancelled their movie plans. John had been looking forward to it for weeks.

Then, John insisted he go to bed early, instead of watching tv with Laf, Herc, and Alex.

For some reason, Alex couldn’t help but think all this sadness was aimed towards him.

When John escaped to his room, Alex looked at Herc and Laf.

“Is he mad at _me_?” Alex felt his voice waver. Damn, he had fallen hard for him.

“No.” They both said in perfect unison. Then they looked at each other.

“He’ll get over it. It’s just a matter of time.” Said Herc.

Then they continued watching the show. After the episode ended, Alex stood up.

“I think I gotta head to bed.”

“Okay.” Hercules said. “Make sure to keep your hands inside the covers. Last night Chloé almost took off my fingers.” Hercules snickered as Laf shot him a angry stare.

Right before Alex left the room, Laf stopped him. “Wait, _mon ami_ , I need to ask you a question.”

“Yeah?”

Laf shared a look with Herc. “Are you in a relationship with Eliza? It seems that you two are hanging out more lately and we’re just really curious.”

“No, we’re just friends. “

Herc and Laf looks relieved. “Okay. Thanks for satisfying our curiosity.”

“You sleep now.”

 

The next couple of weeks went by smoothly. By the end of the week, John was his old self again. Alex never found out why John was in such a mood, but it didn’t quite matter to Alex. He was just glad to have him back again.

It was back to weird moments with John that made Alex’s heart flutter. Like when Alex and John forgot to wear gloves on the walk to Washington’s, so they just held hands instead. Alex could swear he looked like a tomato. Even Washington smiled when they walked into the clothing store hand in hand.

Then while Alex was studying for finals, John would doodle on the sides of his papers, sprawl on top of his desk like a cat, or even just put Chloé there to try to get more attention from him. They even fell asleep on the couch again.

They were like a real couple - at least to Alex. Who knew what John was thinking. Not Alex.

After taking all his finals, Alex was a free man, and he didn’t have to go to school for a FULL MONTH. A WHOLE GODDAMN MONTH!!!

This meant two weeks with John. Of course he sometimes hung out with Eliza and her sisters, but now he had more time to hang with Laurens too.

Now, Herc, Laf, John, and Alex were sitting on the couch watching the tv. That was until Laf’s phone rang.

Laf pulled it out from his pocket and answered it.

“Yeah, Yeah… what? really!” Laf hung up the phone. He had an excited look on his face.

“What is it?” John asked.

“Yeah,” said Herc, “spit it out!”

“That was Washington. He called to inform us to go make some suits.”

“Why?”

“We’re going to court. With George King.”

 

“Now, what luck is it that this falls the day before the party? I’m gonna be stress sweating the entire time, then my suit will stink and I won't be able to pick up any cute girls at the Christmas party!”

“Herc, you have a girlfriend.”

“That’s besides the point.”

John, Alex, and Laf laughed as they sat, waiting for the court case to start. Alex wasn’t through college yet, so he couldn’t be the lawyer for Washington’s. They had to hire one of Washington’s friends, however it was tough to explain everything that had happened in two days.

The cops who had been buying the drugs from George King had already pleaded guilty. They weren’t high up in the police force, and there was only a small group who were actually buying them. They wouldn’t be in jail for long.

They had however offered to be witnesses for Washington’s case, and things were looking pretty bright for Washington’s.

That was, until they saw Charles Lee walk in.

Alex had barely any time to think before the judge walked in and everyone became silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so there’s a lot I wanna say. 
> 
> First things first: I’m sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. It took getting sick to actually get me to stop everything and write a chapter. We’re hoping that we’ll finish this soon (I’d say by the end of our break but I’m afraid I’ll procrastinate too much but that’s what I’m hoping for)  
> Also, I felt like the quality of my chapters have gone down since school started, so I spent a little bit more time on this one to try and make it less rushed.  
> Lastly, for all of the people taking finals, I hope you do well!!
> 
> -serenity
> 
> (Also, stay tuned for more fluff in the near future)


	18. Chapter 666

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok we are so sorry. We kinda left the Hamilton fandom a year ago and felt bad about not finishing it so here is the LAST CHAPTER. Have fun.
> 
> Lizzie and Serenity
> 
>  
> 
> Warning: We mentioned suicide.

Long story short, because of Charles Lee’s testimony and George King’s connections, Washington’s lost the case. 

Shortly after George King’s business skyrocketed, Washington’s was left with close to no income, forcing it to shut down.

George Washington and Martha Washington could not pay their bills, so the bank took both their house, and Washington’s from them, forcing them to live in a retirement home. Martha died the year after from the lack of care at the retirement home, and Washington went into shock and exited to the depths of his mind. He never spoke again.

Lafayette was fine, his family was rich. However when Chloé died, Lafayette spent all his money on cats and cat toys and cat food. This continued until the day he died, and he was promptly eaten by his cats when they didn't get any dinner that night.

Hercules actually was fine for a long long time. He married Peggy, and he really loved her, and wanted to have a child with her. Peggy finally gave birth to a baby boy, but died in the process. Hercules blamed it on his son, and made his son feel so unwelcome in the world that he ran away multiple times from his father and eventually took his own life. Hercules has never forgiven himself.

John finally got together with Alex at the party, and they had a great relationship. Or so he thought. A year or two later John found out Alex was cheating on him with not only one woman, but three. John was heartbroken about this, and confronted Alex. John decided to get in a relationship with a woman, and had a child. John had a loveless life and died because of it.

Alex was in a relationship with John, but it wasn't enough. He got together with Eliza, Angelica, and Maria. At his new Lawyer job, Thomas, Madison, and Aaron found out about his secret. So, he did what anyone would do. He published a book about all four of his relationships. Eliza was heartbroken and never was in a relationship again. Angelica beat Alex up, then had a loveless marriage. Maria went back to her abusive husband. John was married to a woman, then committed suicide. It was all too much for Alex, so he hung himself and framed Aaron Burr, which eventually landed Aaron in jail. Seriously. Such a Dick move.

The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry.


End file.
